Civilization's  Inferno 


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Civilization's    Inferno; 


OH, 


STUDIES  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR, 


BY 

B.  O.  Flower, 

Author  of  "  Lessons  Leanwd  from  Other  Lives,'' '  eio. 


"  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
Makes  countless  millions  mourn." 


BOSTON  : 
ARENA  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
Copley  Square, 


Copyrighted,  1893 
By  B.  O.  Flower 


PREFACE. 


T  N  sending  out  this  little  work  I  am  actuated  solely  by  a  desire 
^  to  arouse  earnest  men  and  women  to  action  by  presenting 
deplorable  conditions  existing  at  our  very  door  wliich  are  a 
crying  reproach  to  the  Ilepublic. 

I  appreciate  my  inability  to  adequately  picture  the  horrors 
of  the  social  cellar  or  to  portray  the  infinite  misery  which  is 
the  lot  of  tens  of  thousands  of  struggling  souls  in  the  full  blaze 
of  our  boasted  christian  civilization. 

It  would  require  a  pen  far  more  powerful  than  my  own  to 
properly  describe  the  depths  of  want,  wretchedness  and  degra- 
dation to  be  seen  in  the  populous  slums  of  cultured,  palace- 
decked,  church-jewelled  Boston. 

My  original  xjurpose  was  to  strike  out  all  suggestive  hints 
from  the  earlier  pages  and  incorporate  them  in  two  chapters, 
one  dealing  with  palliative  measures  ;  the  other  presenting 
fundamental  social  reforms.  On  mature  deliberation,  however, 
I  have  decided  that  this  treatment,  though  more  artistic, 
would  be  far  less  effective.  The  suggestive  hints  thrown  out 
in  a  few  words,  while  striking  object  lessons  are  before  the 
mental  vision  of  the  reader,  will  be  more  impressive  than 
a  longer  discussion  removed  from  the  suggestive  scenes. 
Again,  1  believe  it  is  important  to  reiterate  these  truths  in  the 
presence  of  each  of  the  various  manifestations  of  misery  and 
social  inequality  present  to-day,  as  only  in  this  way  can  we 
arouse  from  its  lethargy  a  sleeping  conscience  which  renders 
such  conditions  ijossible.  It  has  not  been  my  purpose  to  enter 
into  any  elaborate  exposition  of  the  ijrinciples  involved  in 
3 


1500251 


PREFACE. 

Tvhat  I  am  persuaded  are  fundamental  reformative  measures 
or  to  describe  at  length  the  many  noble  palliative  works  of 
which  I  hint  from  time  to  time,  as  this  work  is  rather  a  series 
of  informal  essays  on  life  in  the  social  cellar,  written  to  arrest 
the  attention  and,  if  possible,  to  turn  the  mind  of  the  reader  to 
the  many  noble  and  exhaustive  works  dealing  with  social  prob- 
lems which  have  appeared  in  recent  years. 

In  arranging  and  enlarging  these  chapters  I  have  found  it 
impdssiblu  to  bestow  the  time  I  desired  to  spend  upon  them, 
owing  to  duties  which  demanded  almost  every  moment  at  my 
command,  therefore  they  are  not  as  finished  as  I  could  wish. 
If,  however,  they  touch  the  lieart  and  kindle  a  love-fire  suffi- 
ciently intense  to  burn  up  selfishness  and  awaken  the  divine 
spark  in  other  hearts,  if  they  lead  even  a  few  persons  to 
consecrate  more  fully  life  and  love  to  their  fellow-men,  I 
shall  be  content.  B.  O.  Flower. 

Boston,  Mass., 
Feb.  1st.,  18'J3. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Introduction. 

The    Dead    Sea    of    nineteenth-century    civilization  — 

Appalling  facts  illustrating  the  extent  of  poverty  in 

New  York  —  Poverty  in  Boston  —  The  present;  its 

demands  on  all  who  are  spiritually  awakened. 

Page  7 

II.  Society's  Exiles. 

Tlie  Social  cellar,  the  hot-bed  of  moral  and  physical 
contagion  —  Some  reasons  why  the  slums  are  over- 
flowing with  human  life  —  Uninvited  poverty  —  Tyjj- 
ical  cases  illustrating  the  wretchedness  of  our  worthy 
poor  —  Some  palliative  measures  —  The  Liverpool 
model  apartments  —  The  noble  work  of  Geo.  Pea- 
body  in  London  —  A  word  in  regard  to  fundamental 
reformative  measures.  21-60 

III.  Two  Hours  In  The  Social  Cellar. 

Further  journeyings  through  the  slums  —  Scenes  of  mis- 
ery in  the  domain  of  uninvited  poverty — Illustrations 
showing  how  jiresent  conditions  foster  wealth  and 
increase  poverty  —  The  evils  of  our  system  of  taxa- 
tion —  Immigration  —  Speculation  in  land  —  Monop- 
oly in  transportation  —  Suggestive  hints.  61-96 

IV.  The  Democracy  Of  Darkness. 

The  darkest  zone  in  social  life  —  Pseudo  pleasures  of  the 
under  world  —  Bestial  gratifications  which  end  in 
death  —  Typical  cases —  Crime  in  our  gi-eat  cities  — 
Some  figures  from  recent  statistics  —  Modern  Fagans 

—  Trafficking  in  virtue —  A  typical  case.  97-123 

V.  Why  The  Ishmaelites  Multiply. 

Ethical  significance  of  loose  morals  in  the  speculative 
world  —  A  further  word  on  taxation  —  Emigration 

—  Cheap  lodging-houses  —  The  saloon  the  supreme 
curse  of  nineteenth-century  civilization  —  The  influ- 

5 


CONTENTS. 


ence  of  drink  on  tlic  living  —  Its  influence  on  pos- 
terity —  A  serious  question  —  What  tlie  church 
might  accomplish.  125-154 

VI.  The  Fkoth  And  The  Dregs. 

Social  contrasts  as  illustrated  in  recent  literature  —  The 
froth  — Life  in  the  gay  frivolous  world  of  society- 
Typical  scenes  — Tendency  of  such  life  — Immor- 
ality treading  on  the  heels  of  luxury,  idleness  and 
selfishness  — The  other  world,  or  a  glance  at  the 
dregs  —  Crime,  poverty  and  misery  in  the  slums  of 
London  — Facts  which  stagger  tlie  imagination  — 
Typical  cases.  155-iyO 

VII.  A  Pilgrimage  And  A  Vision. 

Social  contrasts  in  Boston  — The  Back  Bay— Life  as  it 
appears  on  Commonwealth  avenue  and  Beacon 
street— The  slums  in  the  West  end— A  pathetic 
story  of  a  little  slum  child  — The  slums  of  the  North 
End  — Typical  cases  illustrating  involuntai-y  poverty 
—  "My  Country  'tis  of  thee"  sung  by  children  in 
the  slums —  A  vision.  191-221 

\'  1 1 L  What  Of  The  Morrow  ? 

Are  radical  changes  for  the  betterment  of  the  industrial 
millions  pending?  — The  unmistakable  drift  of  the 
times  toward  human  brotherhood  —  A  persistent 
ideal  once  rooted  in  the  popular  mind  never  departs 
without  a  struggle  for  supremacy— Encouraging 
signs— Tho  Slogan  cry  of  the  new  day— The  pro- 
plietic  vision  of  William  Morris.  223-237 


INTRODUCTION 


The  poor,  the  poor,  the  poor  !  they  stand 

Wedged  by  the  pressing  of  Trade's  hand, 

Against  an  inward-opening  door. 

That  pressure  tiglitens  evermore  ; 

They  sigh  a  monstrous,  foul-air  sigh 

For  the  outside  leagues  of  liberty, 

Wliere  art,  sweet  lark,  translates  the  sky 

Into  a  heavenly  melody. 

"  Each  day,  all  day  "  (these  poor  folks  say) 

"  In  the  same  old  year-long,  drear-long  way. 

We  weave  in  the  mills  and  heave  in  the  kilns, 

We  sieve  niine-meshes  under  the  hills. 

To  relieve,  O,  God,  what  manner  of  ills  ?  — 

The  beasts,  tliey  hunger,  and  eat,  and  die  ; 

And  so  do  we,  and  the  world's  a  sty." 

"  Silence  fellow-swine  ;  why  nuzzle  and  cry  ? 

Swinehood  hath  no  remedy-" 

Say  many  men,  and  hasten  by. 

But  who  said  once,  in  a  lordly  tone, 

"  Man  shall  not  live  by  brcsad  alone, 

But  all  that  Cometh  from  the  Throne  ?  " 

Ilatli  God  said  so  ? 

But  Trade  saith  "  No  " ; 
And  tlio  kihis  and  the  curt-toiigued  mills  say  "  Go  : 
There's  plenty  that  can,  if  you  can't,  wo  know  ; 
Move  out,  if  you  think  you're  underpaid. 
The  poor  are  prolific  ;  we're  not  afraid  ; 

Trade  is  trade." 

Sidney  Lanier. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Dead  Sea  of  nineteenth-century  civilization — Appalling 
facts,  illustrating  the  extent  of  poverty  in  New  York  — 
Poverty  in  Boston —  The  present  —  its  flemamls  on  all 
who  are  spiritually  awakened. 


T 


HE  Dead  Sea  of  want  is  enlarging  its 
borders  in  every  populous  centre. 
The  mutterings  of  angry  discontent  grow 
more  ominous  with  each  succeeding  year. 
Justice  denied  the  weak  through  the  power  of 
avarice,  has  brought  us  face  to  face  with 
a  formidable  crisis  which  may  yet  be 
averted  if  we  have  t'he  wisdom  to  be 
just  and  humane;  but  the  problem  cannot 
longer  be  sneered  at  as  inconsequential. 
It  is  no  longer  local;  it  affects  and  threat- 
ens the  entire  body  politic.  A  few  years 
ago  one  of  the  most  eminent  divines  in 
America  declared  that  there  was  no  pov- 
erty to  speak  of  in  this  E,epu.blic.     To-day 


10  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

no  thoughtful  person  denies  that  this  prob- 
lem is  one  of  grave  magnitude.  A  short 
time  since  I  employed  a  gentleman  in  New 
York  to  personally  investigate  the  court 
records  of  the  city  that  he  might  ascertain 
the  exact  number  of  warrants  for  evictions 
issued  in  twelve  months.  What  was  the 
result  ?  The  records  showed  the  appalling 
fact  that  during  the  twelve  months  ending 
Sept.  1st.,  1892,  twent3^-nine  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  twenty  warrants  for  eviction 
were  issued  in  the  city  of  New  York.  In  a 
recent  paper*  by  Mr.  Jacob  Riis  on  the  spe- 
cial needs  of  the  poor  in  New  York,  he 
says — "For  many  years  it  has  been  true 
of  New  York  that  one  tenth  of  all  who  die 
in  this  great  and  wealthy  city  are  buried 
in  the  Potter's  field.  Of  the  382,530  inter- 
ments recorded  in  the  past  decade,  37,996 
were  in  the  Potter's  field,"  and  Mr.  Riis 
proceeds  to  hint  at  the  fact  known  to  all 
students  of  social  conditions  who  personally 
investigate  poverty  in  the  great  cities  that 
this  Potter  field  guage,  terribly  significant 
though  it  be,  is  no  adequate  measure  by 

♦  Forum,  Dec.  18'J2. 


INTRODUCTION.  H 

which  to  estimcate  the  poverty  problem  of 
a  great  city.     On  this  point  he  continues  : 

"Those  who  have  had  any  personal  ex- 
perience with  the  poor,  and  know  with 
what  agony  of  fear  they  struggle  against 
this  crowning  misery,  how  they  plan  and 
plot  and  pinch  for  the  poor  j)rivilege  of 
being  laid  at  rest  in  a  grave  that  is  theirs 
to  keep,  though  in  life  they  never  owned  a 
shred  to  call  their  own,  will  agree  with  me 
that  it  is  putting  it  low  to  assume  that 
where  one  falls,  in  spite  of  it  all,  into  this 
dreaded  trench,  at  least  two  or  three  must 
be  always  hovering  on  the  edge  of  it. 
And  with  this  estimate  of  from  twenty  to 
thirty  per  cent  of  our  population  always 
struggling  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door, 
with  the  issue  in  grievous  doubt,  all  the 
known,  if  scattered,  facts  of  charity 
manaarement  in  New  York  aa:ree  well 
enough." 

In  1890  there  were  two  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  suicides  officially  reported  in 
New  York  City.  The  court  records  are 
burdened  as  never  before  with  cases  of 
attempted  self-slaughter.     "You,"  said  Re- 


12  CIVILIZATIOX'S  INFERNO. 

corder  Smyth,  addressing  a  poor  crea- 
ture who  had  sought  death  by  leaping 
into  the  East  River,  "are  the  second  case 
of  attempted  suicide  that  has  been  up  in 
this  court  this  morning;  and,"  he  contin- 
ued, "1  have  never  known  so  many 
attempted  suicides  as  during  the  past  few 
months." 

The  details  of  a  census  of  tenement 
houses  published  by  the  New  York  Board  of 
Health  some  time  ago  furnished  a  melan- 
choly confirmation  of  oft-repeated  state- 
ments Ijy  thoughtful  persons  who  have 
personally  investigated  this  problem  j  in 
brief  they  show  in  round  immbers  35,000 
front  tenements,  2,300  roar  tenements, 
270,000  families,  1,225,000  inhabitants 
(an  increase  of  141,000).  There  were  850 
stables  and  4,360  horses  in  the  district  to 
pollute  the  air. 

The  night  is  slowly  but  surely  settling 
around  hundreds  of  thousands  of  our  peo- 
ple, the  night  of  poverty  and  despair. 
They  are  conscious  of  its'  approach  but  feel 
powerless  to  check  its  advance.  "Rents 
get  higher  and  work  cheaper  every  year, 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

and  what  can  we  do  about  it  ?"  said  a  lab- 
orer recently  while  talking  about  the  out- 
look. "I  do  not  see  any  way  out  of  it," 
he  added  bitterly,  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  the  outlook  is  dark  if  no  radical  econ- 
omic changes  are  at  hand,  for  the  supply  is 
yearly  increasing  far  more  rapidly  than 
the  demand  for  labor.  "Ten  women  for 
every  place  no  matter  how  poor,"  is 
the  dispassionate  statement  of  an  official 
who  has  recently  made  the  question  of 
female  labor  a  special  study.  "Hundreds 
of  girls,"  continues  this  writer,  "wreck 
their  future  every  year  and'  destroy  their 
health  in  the  stuffy,  ill-ventilated  stores  and 
shops,  and  yet  scores  of  recruits  arrive 
from  the  country  and  small  towns  every 
week  to  fill  the  places  vacated  by  the 
victims  of  greed."  And  let  us  not  imagine 
that  these  social  hells  are  peculiar  to  New 
York.  What  is  true  of  the  metropolis  is  to 
a  certain  extent  true  of  every  great  city  in 
America.  Most  of  the  studies  found  on  the 
following  pages  have  been  made  in  Boston 
within  less  than  an  hour's  walk  of  palatial 
homes  on  Commonwealth  Ayenue,    Within 


14  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

cannon-shot  of  Beacon  Hill,  where  proudly 
rises  the  golden  dome  of  the  Capitol,  are 
hundreds  of  families  slowly  starving  and 
stifling;  families  who  are  bravely  bat- 
tling for  life's  barest  necessities,  while  year 
by  year  the  conditions  are  becoming  more 
hopeless,  the  struggle  for  bread  fiercer, 
the  outlook  more  dismal.  In  conver- 
sation with  one  of  these  toilers,  he  said, 
with  a  certain  pathos  and  dejection,  which 
indicated  hopelessness  or  perhaps  a  dead- 
ened perception  which  prevented  his  fully 
grasping  the  grim  import  of  his  words,  "I 
once  heard  of  a  man  who  was  put  in  an 
iron  cage  by  a  tyrant,  and  every  day  he 
found  the  walls  had  come  closer  and  closer 
to  him.  At  last  the  walls  came  so  close 
together  that  every  day  they  squeezed  out 
a  part  of  his  life,  and  somehow,"  he  said, 
"it  seems  to  me  that  we  are  just  like  that 
man,  and  when  1  see  the  little  boxes  carried 
out  every  day,  I  sometimes  say  to  my  wife, 
*  There's  a  little  more  life  squeezed  out; 
some  day  we  will  go  too'." 

I  recently  visited  more  than  a  score  of 
|;enement  houses  where  life  w^s   battling 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

with  death;  where,  with  a  patient  heroism 
far  grander  than  deeds  of  daring  won  'mid 
the  exulting  shouts  of  the  battle-field, 
mothers  and  daughters  were  ceaselessly  ply- 
ing the  needle.  In  several  homes  I  noticed 
bedridden  invalids  whose  sunken  eyes  and 
emaciated  faces  told  too  plainly  the  story 
of  months,  and  perhaps  years,  of  slow 
starvation  amid  the  squalor,  the  sickening 
odor,  and  almost  universal  filth  of  the 
social  cellar.  Here  one  becomes  painfully 
conscious  of  more  inmates  than  are  visible 
to  the  physical  senses.  Spectres  of  hunger 
and  fear  are  ever  present.  A  lifelong 
dread  presses  upon  the  hearts  of  these 
exiles  with  crushing  weight.  The  land- 
lord, standing  with  a  writ  of  dispossession, 
is  continually  before  their  mind's  eye. 
Dread  of  sickness  haunts  every  waking 
moment,  for  to  them  sickness  means  ina- 
bility to  provide  the  scant  nourishment 
which  life  demands.  The  despair  of  the 
probable  future  not  infrequently  torments 
their  rest.  Such  is  the  common  lot  of  the 
patient  toiler  in  the  slums  of  our  great  cit- 
ies to-da^.    On  roost  of  their  faces  one 


IG  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

notes  an  expression  of  gloomy  sadness,  or 
dumb  resignation.  Sometimes  a  fitful 
light  flashes  from  cavernous  sockets,  a  bale- 
ful gleam  suggesting  smouldering  fires  fed 
by  an  ever-present  consciousness  of  wrongs 
endured.  They  feel  in  a  dumb  way  that 
the  lot  of  the  beast  of  the  field  is  happier 
far  than  their  fate.  Even  though  they 
struggle  from  dawn  far  into  the  night  for 
bread  and  a  wretched  room,  they  know 
that  the  window  of  hope  is  closing  for 
them  in  the  great  throbbing  centres  of  civ- 
ilized Christendom.  Sad,  indeed,  is  the 
thought  that,  at  the  present  time,  when  our 
land  is  decked  as  never  before  with  stately 
temples  dedicated  to  the  great  Nazarene, 
who  devoted  His  life  to  a  ministry  among 
the  poor,  degraded  and  outcast,  we  find  the 
tide  of  misery  rising;  we  find  uninvited 
poverty  becoming  the  inevitable  fate  of 
added  thousands  of  lives  every  year. 
Never  was  the  altruistic  sentiment  more 
generally  upon  the  lips  of  man.  Never 
has  the  human  heart  yearned  as  now  for  a 
truer  manifestation  of  human  brotherhood. 
Never  has  the  whole  civilized  world  been 


INTRODUCTION. 


SO  profoundly  moved  by  the  persistent 
dream  of  tlie  aores  —  the  fatherhood  of  God 
and  the  brotherhood  of  man.  And  yet, 
strange  anomaly!  The  cry  of  innocence 
—  of  outraged  justice  —  the  cry  of  the  mil- 
lions under  the  wheel  rises  to-day  from 
every  civilized  land  as  never  before.  The 
voice  of  Russia  mingles  with  the  cry  of 
Ireland.  Outcast  London  joins  with  the 
exiles  of  all  great  continental  and  Ameri- 
can cities  in  one  mighty,  earth-thrilling 
demand  for  justice.  He  who  takes  the 
trouble  to  look  beneath  the  surface  will  see 
the  explanation  of  this  apparent  contradic- 
tion. The  noblest  souls  in  every  walk  of 
life  have  entered  a  protest  against  time- 
honored  wrongs  and  conditions,  and  this 
has  given  hope  to  the  sinking  millions  of 
civilization's  exiles,  and  like  a  man  over- 
board who  sees  the  coming  life-boat,  they 
cry,  where  a  few  years  ago,  seeing  no 
gleam  of  hope,  they  were  dumb.  Increased 
intelligence  also  is  rapidly  changing  the 
slave  and  vassal  into  a  man  who  reasons 
and  prepares  to  act.  While  on  the  other 
side,  intrenched  monopoly  and    heartless 


IS  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEENO. 

greed,  beholding  the  rising  tide  of  discon- 
tent and  understanding  its  significance,  in 
many  instances  grow  more  arrogant  as 
well  as  more  vigilant  and  subtle  in  their 
persistent  efforts  to  prevent  anything 
which  looks  toward  radical  reforms.  The 
present  is  a  transition  period.  The  new  is 
battling  wdtli  the  old.  Humanity's  face  is 
toward  a  brighter  day.  The  impulses  of 
the  race  favor  another  step  in  the  slow 
ascent  of  the  ages,  but  ancient  thought  lies 
across  the  pathway;  while  monopoly,  in- 
trenched behind  unjust  laws,  clings  to  the 
garments  of  progress  in  the  vain  hope  of 
checking  the  inevitable. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  make 
men  think,  to  carry  home  the  horrors  of 
life  in  the  social  cellars  to  every  heart  not 
already  paralyzed  l)y  conventionalism.  The 
conscience  of  civilization  must  be  aroused. 
The  next  thing  is  the  two-fold  task  of  sav- 
ing the  sinking  of  our  day,  while  radical 
economic  reforms  are  introduced  which 
look  toward  abolisl.ung  injustice  and  un- 
invited poverty.  To  this  end  all  true  men 
and    women    must    lend    their    energies. 


INTR  OD  UC  TlOJSr.  1 9 

There  must  be  no  relaxation.  No  falter- 
ing by  the  wayside.  No  halting  or  waver- 
ing. The  bugle  has  sounded,  the  battle 
has  opened.  The  issue  is  clear.  Age-long 
injustice  is  being  assaulted  by  the  forces 
of  the  dawn.  The  ideal  of  human  brother- 
hood to  be  realized  in  the  supremacy  of 
justice,  liberty  and  love,  is  the  inspiration 
of  all  who  are  battling  for  the  millions  in 
darkness  and  chains. 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES, 


21 


Before  us  dies  our  brother,  of  starvation  ; 

Around  are  cries  of  famine  and  despair  I 
Wliere  is  hope  for  us,  or  comfort  or  salvation  — 

Where — oh  !  whei-e  ? 
If  the  angels  ever  hearlcen,  downward  bending, 

They  are  weeping,  we  are  sure. 
At  tlie  Litanies  of  Imman  groans  ascending 

From  the  crushed  hearts  of  the  poor. 

We  never  know  a  cliildhood's  mirtli  and  gladness, 

Nor  the  proud  heart  of  youth  free  and  brave  ;' 
Oh,  a  death-like  dream  of  wretchedness  and  sadness, 

Is  life's  weary  journey  to  the  grave! 
Day  by  day  we  lower  sink,  and  lower. 

Till  the  God-like  soul  within 
Falls  crushed  beneath  the  fearful  demon-power 

Of  poverty  and  sin. 
So  we  toil  on,  on  with  fever  burning 

In  heart  and  brain  ; 
So  we  toil  on,  on  througli  bitter  scorning. 

Want,  woe,  and  pain. 
We  dare  not  raise  our  eyes  to  the  blue  heavens 

Or  the  toil  must  cease  — 
We  dare  not  breathe  the  fresh  air  God  has  given 

One  hour  in  peace. 

Lad\j  Wilde. 


22 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  23 


II. 

SOCIETY'S   EXILES. 

The  Social  cellars,  the  hot-beds  of  moral  and  physical  conta- 
gion—  Some  reasons  why  the  slums  are  overflowing 
with  human  life  —  Uninvited  poverty — Tyijical  cases 
illustrating  the  wretchedness  of  our  worthy  poor  — 
Some  palliative  measures  —  The  Liverpool  model  apart- 
ments—  The  noble  work  of  Geo.  Peabodyin  London  — 
A  word  in  regard  to  fundamental  reformative  measures. 

IT  is  difficult  to  over-estimate  the  gravity 
of  the  problem  presented  by  those 
compelled  to  exist  in  the  slums  of  our 
populous  cities,  even  when  considered  from 
a  purely  economic  point  of  view.  From 
the  midst  of  this  commonwealth  of  degra- 
dation there  goes  forth  a  moral  contagion, 
scourging  society  in  all  its  ramifications, 
coupled  with  an  atmosphere  of  physical 
decay — an  atmosphere  reeking  with  filth, 
heavy  with  foul  odors,  laden  with  disease. 
In  time  of  any  contagion  the  social  cellar 
becomes  the  hot-bed  of  death,  sending  forth 


/ 


24  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

myriads  of  fatal  germs  which  permeate  the 
air  for  miles  around,  causing  thousands  to 
die  because  society  is  too  short-sighted  to 
understand  that  the  interest  of  its  hum- 
blest member  is  the  interest  of  all.  The 
slums  of  our  cities  are  the  reservoirs  of 
physical  and  moral  death,  an  enormous 
expense  to  the  state,  a  constant  menace  to 
society,  a  reality  whose  shadow  is  at  once 
colossal  and  portentous.  In  time  of  social 
upheavals  they  will  prove  magazines  of 
destruction;  for,  while  revolution  will  not 
originate  in  them,  once  let  a  popular 
uprising  take  form  and  the  cellars  will 
re-inforce  it  in  a  manner  more  terrible  than 
words  can  portray.  Considered  ethically, 
the  problem  is  even  more  embarrassing 
and  deplorable;  here,  as  nowhere  else  in 
civilized  society,  thousands  of  our  fellow- 
men  are  exiled  from  the  enjoyments  of 
civilization,  forced  into  life's  lowest  stratum 
of  existence,  branded  with  that  fatal  word, 
"  scum."  If  they  seek  to  rise,  society  shrinks 
from  them ;  they  seem  of  another  world ; 
they  are  driven  into  the  darkness  of  a 
hopeless   existence   and    viewed    much    as 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  25 

were  lepers  in  olden  times.  Over  their 
heads  perpetually  rests  the  dread  of 
eviction,  of  sickness  and  of  failure  to  obtain 
employment,  making  existence  a  perpet- 
ual nightmare,  from  which  death  alone 
brings  release.  Say  not  that  they  do  not 
feel  this ;  I  have  talked  with  them ;  I  have 
seen  the  agony  born  of  a  fear  which  rests 
heavy  on  their  souls,  a  fear  stamped  in 
their  wrinkled  faces  and  peering  forth  from 
great  pathetic  eyes.  For  them  winter  has 
real  terror,  for  they  possess  neither  clothes 
to  keep  comfortable  the  body,  nor  means 
with  which  to  properly  warm  their  miser- 
able tenements.  Summer  is  scarcely  less 
frightful,  with  its  stifling  heat  acting  on 
myriad  germs  of  disease  and  producing 
fever,  which  frequently  ends  in  death, 
or,  what  is  still  more  dreaded,  chronic 
invalidism.  Starvation,  misery  and  vice, 
trinity  of  despair,  haunt  their  every 
step.  The  Golden  Rule  —  the  foundation 
of  true  civilization,  the  keynote  of  human 
happiness  —  reaches  not  their  wretched 
quarters.  Placed  by  society  under  the 
ban,  life  is  one  long  and   terrible   night. 


26  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

But  tragic  as  is  the  fate  of  the  present  gen- 
eration, still  more  appalling  is  the  picture 
when  we  contemplate  the  thousands  of  lit- 
tle waves  of  life  yearly  washed  into  the 
cellar  of  being;  fragile,  helpless  innocents, 
responsible  in  no  way  for  their  presence  or 
environment,  yet  condemned  to  a  fate  more 
frightful  than  the  beasts  of  the  field ;  human 
beings  wandering  in  the  dark,  existing  in 
the  sewer,  ever  feeling  the  crushing  weight 
of  the  gay  world  above,  which  thinks  little 
and  cares  less  for  them.  Infinitely  pa- 
thetic is  their  lot. 

The  causes  which  have  operated  to  pro- 
duce these  conditions  are  numerous  and 
complex,  the  most  apparent  being  the 
immense  influx  of  immigration  from  the 
crowded  centres  of  the  Old  World;  the 
glamor  of  city  life,  which  has  allured 
thousands  from  the  country,  fascinating 
them  from  afar  much  as  the  gaudy  colors 
and  tinsel  before  the  footlights  dazzle  the 
vision  of  a  child;  the  rapid  growth  of  the 
saloon,  rendered  well-nigh  impregnable  by 
the  wealth  of  the  liquor  power;  the  won- 
derful labor-saving  inventions,  which  in  the 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  27 

hands  of  greed  and  avarice,  instead  of 
mitigating  the  burdens  of  the  people, 
have  greatly  augmented  them,  by  glutting 
the  market  with  labor;  the  opportunities 
given  by  the  government  through  grants, 
special  privileges  and  protective  measures 
for  rapid  accumulation  of  wealth  by  the 
few;  the  power  which  this  wealth  has 
given  its  possessors  over  the  less  fortunate ; 
the  spread  of  that  fevered  mental  condition 
which  subjects  all  finer  feelings  and  holier 
aspirations  to  the  acquisition  of  gold  and 
the  gratification  of  carnal  appetites,  and 
which  is  manifest  in  such  a  startling  degree 
in  the  gambler's  world,  which  to  dignify 
w'e  call  the  realm  of  speculation ;  the  desire 
for  vulgar  ostentation  and  luxurious  indul- 
gence—  in  a  word  the  fever  for  gold  which 
has  permeated  the  social  atmosphere,  fatally 
infecting  hundreds  of  thousands  of  our 
people,  chilling  their  hearts,  benumbing 
their  consciences,  choking  all  divine  im- 
pulses and  refined  sensibilities  ;  the  coward- 
ice and  lethargy  of  the  Church,  which  has 
grown  rich  in  gold  and  poor  in  the  posses- 
sion of  moral  energy,  which  no  longer  dares 


28  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

to  denounce  the  money  changers,  or  alarm 
those  who  clay  by  day  are  anaesthetizing 
their  own  souls,  while  adding  to  the  mis- 
ery of  the  world.  The  Church  has  become, 
to  a  great  extent,  subsidized  by  gold,  say- 
ing in  effect,  "  I  am  rich  and  increased  in 
goods  and  have  need  of  nothing,"  appar- 
ently ignorant  of  the  fact  that  she  "is 
Avretched,  poor,  blind  and  naked,"  that  she 
has  signally  failed  in  her  true  mission  — 
that  of  establishing  on  earth  an  ideal 
brotherhood.  Instead  of  lifting  her  chil- 
dren into  that  lofty  spiritual  realm  where 
each  feels  the  misery  of  his  brother,  she 
has  so  far  surrendered  to  the  mammon  of 
unrighteousness  that,  without  the  slightest 
fear  of  having  their  consciences  disturbed, 
men,  in  their  soft-cushioned  pews,  find 
comfort  while  wringing  from  ten  to  twenty 
per  cent,  profit  from  their  fellowmen  in  the 
wretched  tenement  districts.  I  refer  not 
to  the  many  noble  exceptions,  but  I  indict 
the  great  body  of  wealthy  and  fashionable 
churches,  whose  ministers  do  not  know  and 
take  no  steps  to  find  out  the  misery 
that   results   from   the   avarice    of    their 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  29 

parishioners.  Then  again  back  of  all  this 
is  the  defective  education  which  has  devel- 
oped all  save  character  in  man;  education 
which  has  trained  the  brain  but  shriveled 
the  soul.  Last,  but  by  no  means  least,  is 
land  speculation,  which  has  resulted  in 
keeping  large  tracts  of  land  idle  which 
otherwise  would  have  blossomed  with 
happy  homes.  To  these  influences  we 
must  add  the  general  ignorance  of  the 
people  regarding  the  nature,  extent  and 
growing  proportions  of  the  misery  and 
Avant  in  the  New  World  wdiich  is  spreading 
like  an  Eastern  plague  in  the  hltli  of  an 
Oriental  city. 

It  is  not  my  present  purpose  to  dwell 
further  on  the  causes  which  have  produced 
these  conditions.  I  wdsh  to  bring  home  to 
the  mind  and  heart  of  the  reader  a  true 
conception  of  life  in  the  slums,  by  citing 
typical  cases,  illustrating  a  condition  prev- 
alent in  every  great  city  of  the  Union 
and  increasing  in  its  extent  every  year.  I 
shall  confine  myself  to  uninvited  poverty 
as  found  in  cultured  Boston,  because  I  am 
peraoually  acquainted  with  the  condition 


30  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

of  affairs  here,  and  because  Boston  has 
long  clamied  the  proud  distinction  of  being 
practically  free  from  poverty. 

I  shall,  in  this  chapter,  briefly  describe 
scenes  which  fell  under  my  personal  obser- 
vation during  an  afternoon  tour  through 
the  slums  of  the  North  End,  confining 
myself  to  a  few  typical  cases  which  fairly 
represent  the  actual  condition  of  numbers 
of  families  in  the  slums  of  our  prosperous 
city.  I  purposely  omit,  for  the  present, 
describing  any  members  of  that  terrible 
commonwealth  where  misery,  vice,  degra- 
dation and  crime,  are  inseparably  inter- 
woven. As  they  belong  to  a  lower  stratum ; 
they  have  graduated  downward.  Feeling 
the  hand  of  society  is  against  them,  Ish- 
mael-like  they  raise  their  hand  against  soci- 
ety. They  complement  the  ill-starred,  but 
worthy  poor;  both  are  largely  a  product  of 
unjust  and  inequitable  social  conditions. 

The  scenes  I  am  about  to  describe  were 
witnessed  on  a  sunless,  dreary  afternoon, 
the  day  being  strangely  in  keeping  with 
the  environment  of  the  exiles  of  society 
who  dwell  in  the  slums.     The  sobbing  rain, 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  31 

the  sad,  low  murmur  of  the  wind  under 
the  eaves  and  through  the  narrow  alleys, 
the  cheerless,  frowning  sky  above,  were  in 
perfect  harmony  with  the  pathetic  drama 
of  life  I  was  witnessing.  Everything 
seemed  pitched  in  a  minor  key,  save  now 
and  then  there  swelled  forth  splendid  notes 
of  manly  heroism  and  womanly  courage, 
as  boldly  contrasting  with  the  dead  level 
of  life  as  do  the  full,  rich  notes  of  Wagner's 
noblest  creation  with  the  plaintive  melody 
of  a  simple  ballad  sung  by  a  shepherd  lad. 
My  companion  was  a  hero,  old  in  the  serv- 
ice of  saving  the  children  of  the  slums,  a 
noble-minded  Christian  who  imitates  the 
great  Galilean  by  mingling  with  earth's 
outcasts  to  save  them. 

The  first  building  we  entered  faced  a 
narrow  street.  The  hallway  was  as  dark 
as  the  air  was  foul  or  the  walls  filthy. 
Not  a  ray  or  shimmer  of  light  fell  through 
transoms  or  sky-light.  The  stairs  were 
narrow  and  worn.  By  the  aid  of  matches 
we  were  able  to  grope  our  way  along,  and 
also  to  observe  more  than  was  pleasant  to 
behold.     It   was   apparent   that   the   hall- 


32  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

ways  or  stairs  were  seldom  surprised  by 
water,  while  piire^  fresh  air  was  evidently 
as  much  a  stranger  as  fresh  paint.  After 
ascending  several  flights,  we  entered  a 
room  of  undreamed-of  wretchedness.  On 
the  floor  lay  a  sick  man.  He  was  rather 
fine  looking,  with  an  intelligent  face,  bright 
eyes,  and  a  countenance  indicative  of  force 
of  character.  No  sign  of  dissipation,  but 
an  expression  of  sadness,  or  rather  a  look  of 
dumb  resignation  peered  from  his  expres- 
sive eyes.  For  more  than  two  years  he 
had  been  paralyzed  in  his  lower  limbs, 
and  also  affected  with  dropsy.  The  spec- 
tacle of  a  strong  man  with  the  organs  of 
locomotion  dead,  is  always  pathetic;  but 
when  the  victim  of  such  misfortune  is  in 
the  depths  of  abject  poverty,  his  case 
assumes  a  tragic  hue.  There,  for  two 
years,  he  had  lain  on  a  wretched  pallet  of 
rags,  seeing  his  faithful  wife  tirelessly  sew- 
ing, hour  by  hour  and  day  by  day,  and 
knowing  full  well  that  health,  life  and 
hope  were  hourly  slipping  from  her.  This 
poor  woman  supports  the  invalid  husband, 
her  two  children  and  herself,  by  making 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  33 

pants  for  leading  Boston  clothiers.  No  rest_, 
no  surcease,  a  perpetual  grind  from  early 
dawn  often  till  far  into  the  night;  and, 
■what  is  more  appalling,  outraged  nature 
has  rebelled;  the  long  months  of  semi- 
starvation  and  lack  of  sleep  have  brought 
on  rheumatism,  which  has  settled  in  the 
joints  of  her  fingers,  so  that  every  stitch 
means  a  throb  of  pain.  Thus  wdth  one  of 
the  most  painful  diseases  enthroned  in 
that  part  of  the  body  which  must  move 
incessantly  from  dawn  till  midnight,  with 
two  small  dependent  children  and  a  hus- 
band who  is  utterly  powerless  to  help  her, 
this  poor  woman  struggles  bravely  and 
uncomplainingly,  confronted  ever  by  a 
nameless  dread  of  pending  misfortune. 
Eviction,  sickness,  starvation,  —  such  are 
the  ever-present  spectres,  while  every  year 
marks  the  steady  encroachment  of  disease, 
and  the  lowering  of  the  register  of  vitality. 
Moreover,  from  the  ^vindow  of  her  soul 
falls  the  light  of  no  star  athwart  the  path- 
way of  life. 

The  next  place  visited  was  in  the  attic 
of  a  tenement  building  even  more  wretched 


34  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

than  the  one  just  described.  The  general 
aspects  of  these  houses,  however,  are  all 
much  the  same,  the  chief  difference  being 
in  the  degrees  of  filth  and  squalor  present. 
Here  in  an  attic  lives  a  poor  widow  with 
three  children,  a  little  boy  and  two  little 
girls.  They  live  by  making  pants  at  starv- 
ation wages.  Since  the  youngest  child 
was  two  and  a  half  years  old  she  has 
been  daily  engaged  in  overcasting  the  long 
seams  of  the  garments  made  by  her  mother. 
When  we  first  called  she  had  just  passed 
her  fourth  birthday,  and  now  overcasts 
from  three  to  four  pairs  of  pants  every  day. 
There,  on  a  little  stool,  she  sat,  her  fingers 
moving  as  rapidly  and  in  as  unerring  a 
manner  as  an  old  experienced  needle- woman. 
These  three  children  are  fine  looking,  as  are 
most  of  the  little  Portuguese  I  visited. 
Their  large  heads  and  brilliant  eyes  seem  to 
indicate  capacity  to  enjoy  in  an  unusual 
degree  the  matchless  delight  springing 
from  intellectual  and  spiritual  development. 
Yet  the  wretched  walls  of  their  little  apart- 
ment practically  mark  the  limit  of  their 
world;   the  needle  their  inseparable  com- 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  35 

panion;  tlieir  moral  and  mental  natures 
hopelessly  dwarfed;  a  world  of  wonderful 
possibilities  denied  them  by  an  inexorable 
fate  over  which  they  have  no  control  and 
for  which  they  are  in  no  way  responsible. 
We  often  hear  it  said  that  these  children 
of  the  slums  are  perfectly  happy ;  that,  not 
knowing  what  they  miss,  life  is  as  enjoy- 
able to  them  as  it  is  to  the  young  in  more 
favorable  quarters.  I  am  satisfied  how- 
ever, that  this  is  true  only  in  a  limited 
sense.  The  little  cliildren  I  have  just 
described  are  already  practically  machines ; 
day  by  day  they  engage  in  the  same  work, 
with  much  of  the  monotony  characteristic 
of  an  automatic  instrument  propelled  by 
blind  force.  When  given  oranges  and 
cakes,  a  momentary  smile  illumined  their 
countenances,  a  liquid  light  beamed  from 
their  eyes,  only  to  be  replaced  by  the  sol- 
ennr,  almost  stolid  expression,  which  has 
become  habitual  even  on  faces  so  young. 
This  conclusion  was  still  more  impres- 
sively emphasized  by  the  following  touching 
remark  of  a  child  of  twelve-  years  in 
another    apartment,    who    was    with    her 


36  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

mother  busily  sewing.  "  I  am  forty-three 
years  old  to-day,"  remarked  the  mother, 
and  said  the  good  Samaritan  present,  "I 
shall  be  forty-two  i;iext  Aveek."  "  Oh  dear," 
broke  in  the  child,  ''/  should  think  2)(^oj)le 
would  grow  so  tired  of  living  so  jSIAXy 
YEARS."  Was  utterance  ever  more  pa- 
thetic ?  She  spoke  in  tones  of  mingled  sad- 
ness and  weariness,  revealing  in  one  breath 
all  the  pent-up  bitterness  of  a  young  life 
condemned  to  a  slavery  intolerable  to  any 
refined  or  sensitive  nature.  Is  it  strange 
that  people  here  take  to  drink?  To  me  it 
is  far  more  surprising  that  so  many  are 
sober.  I  am  convinced  that,  in  the  slums, 
far  more  drunkenness  is  caused  by  abject 
poverty  and  inability  to  obtain  wo]^k,  than 
want  is  produced  by  drink.  Here  the  phys- 
ical system,  half  starved  and  often  chilled, 
calls  for  stimulants.  Here  the  horrors  of 
nightmare,  which  we  sometimes  suffer  dur- 
ing our  sleep,  are  present  during  every 
waking  hour.  An  oppressive  fear  weighs 
forever  on  the  mind.  Drink  offers  a  tem- 
porary relief  and  satisfies  the  craving  of 
the  system;  besides  the  environment  invites 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  37 


dissipation  and  liuman  nature  at  best  is 
frail.  I  marvel  that  there  is  not  more 
drunkenness  exhibited  in  the  poverty  spots 
of  our  cities. 

Among  the  places  we  visited  were  a  num- 
ber of  cellars  or  burrows.  We  descended 
several  steps  into  dark,  narrow  passage- 
ways, leading  to  cold,  damp  rooms,  in 
many  of  which  no  direct  ray  of  sunshine 
ever  creeps.  We  entered  one  room  con- 
taining a  bed,  cooking-stove,  rack  of  dirty 
clothes  and  some  broken  chairs.  On  the 
bed  lay  a  man  who  has  been  ill  for  three 
months  with  rheumatism.  This  family 
consists  of  father,  mother,  and  a  daughter 
in  her  teens,  all  of  v:hom  are  com^jelled  to 
occupy  one  bed.  They  eat,  cook,  live,  and 
sleep  in  this  wretched  cellar  and  pay  over 
fifty  dollars  a  year  rent.  This  is  a  typical 
illustration  of  life  in  this  underground 
world. 

In  another  similar  cellar  or  burrow,  we 
found  a  mother  and  seven  boys  and  girls, 
some  of  them  quite  large,  all  sleeping  in 
two  7nediuni-sized  beds  in  one  room;  this 
apartment    is    also    their     kitchen.      The 


38  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

other  room  is  a  storehouse  for  kindling 
wood  the  children  gather  and  sell,  a  little 
store  and  living-room  combined.  Their 
rent  is  two  dollars  a  week.  The  cellar 
was  damp  and  cold ;  the  air  stifling.  Noth- 
ing can  be  imagined  more  favorable  to  con- 
tagion both  physical  and  moral  than  such 
dens  as  these.  Ethical  exaltation  or  spir- 
itual growth  is  impossible  with  such  envi- 
ronment. It  is  not  strange  that  the  slums 
breed  criminals,  which  require  vast  sums 
yearly  to  punish  after  evil  has  been  perpe- 
trated ;  but  to  me  it  is  an  ever-increasing 
source  of  wonder  that  society  should  be  so 
short-sighted  and  neglectful  of  the  condi- 
tion of  its  exiles,  when  an  outlay  of  a  much 
smaller  sum  would  ensure  a  prevention  of 
a  large  proportion  of  the  crime  that  eman- 
ates from  the  slums;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  it  would  mean  a  new  world  of  life, 
happiness  and  measureless  possibilities  for 
the  thousands  who  now  exist  in  hopeless 
gloom. 

In  a  small  room  fronting  an  interior 
court  we  foinid  a  man  whose  face  bore  the 
stamp  of  that  "hope  long  deferred  which 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  39 

maketli  the  heart  sick."  He  is,  I  am 
informed,  a  strictly  temperate,  honest  and 
industrious  workman.  Up  to  the  time  of 
his  wife's  ilhiess  and  death,  which  occurred 
last  summer,  the  family  lived  in  a  reason- 
aljly  comfortable  manner,  as  the  husband 
found  no  difliculty  in  securing  work  on  the 
sea.  When  the  wife  died,  however,  cir- 
cumstances changed.  She  left  six  little 
children,  one  almost  an  infant.  The  father 
could  not  go  to  sea,  leaving  his  little  flock 
without  a  protector,  to  fall  the  victims  of 
starvation,  and  since  then  he  has  worked 
whenever  he  could  obtain  employment  of 
any  kind.  For  the  past  six  weeks  he  has 
been  practically  without  work,  and  the  nu- 
merous family  of  little  ones  have  suffered 
for  life's  necessities.  His  rent  is  two  dol- 
lars and  a  quarter  a  week. 

In  an  attic  in  another  tenement  we 
found  a  widow  weeping  and  working  liy 
the  side  of  a  little  cradle  where  lay  a  sick 
child,  whose  large,  luminous  eyes  shone 
with  almost  phosphorescent  brilliancy  from 
great  cavernous  sockets,  as  they  wandered 
from  one  to  another,  with  a  wistful,  soul- 


40  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

querying  gaze.  Its  forehead  was  large  and 
prominent,  so  much  so  that,  looking  at  the 
upper  part  of  the  head,  one  would  little 
imagine  how  terrible  the  emaciation  of  the 
body,  which  was  little  more  than  skin  and 
bones,  speaking  more  eloquently  than 
words  of  the  ravages  of  slow  starvation 
and  wasting  disease.  The  immediate 
cause  of  the  poor  woman's  tears  was 
explained  to  us  in  broken  English,  substan- 
tially as  follows:  Slie  had  just  returned 
from  the  dispensary  where  she  had  been 
unsuccessful  in  her  effort  to  have  a  physi- 
cian visit  her  child,  owing  to  her  inability 
to  pay  the  quarter  of  a  dollar  demanded 
for  the  visit.  After  describing  as  best  she 
could  the  condition  of  the  invalid,  the  doc- 
tor had  given  her  two  bottles  of  medicine 
and  a  prescription  blank  on  which  he  had 
written  directions  for  her  to  get  a  truss 
that  would  cost  her  two  dollars  and  a  half 
at  the  drug  store.  She  had  explained  to 
the  physician  that  owing  to  the  illness  of 
her  child  she  had  fallen  a  week  and  a  half 
in  arrears  in  rent;  that  the  agent  for  the 
tenement    had    notiiied  her    that    if    one 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  41 

week's  rent  was  not  paid  on  Saturday  she 
w^ould  be  evicted,  which  meant  death  to 
her  child,  so  she  could  not  buy  the  truss. 
To  which  the  doctor  replied,  "You  must 
get  the  truss  and  put  it  on  before  giving 
anything  from  either  bottle,  or  the  medi- 
cine will  kill  your  child."  "If  I  give  the 
medicine,"  she  repeated,  showing  us  the 
bottles,  "  before  I  put  the  truss  on,  he  says 
it  will  kill  my  child,"  and  the  tears  ran 
swiftly  down  her  grief-furrowed  face.  The 
child  was  so  emaciated  that  the  support 
would  inevitably  have  produced  terrible 
sores  in  a  short  time.  I  am  satisfied  that 
had  the  physician  seen  its  condition,  he 
would  not  have  had  a  heart  to  order  it. 

I  thought,  as  I  studied  the  anxious  and 
sorrowful  countenance  of  that  mother,  how 
hard,  indeed,  is  the  lot  of  the  very  poor. 
They  have  to  buy  coal  by  the  basketful 
and  pay  almost  double  price,  likewise  for 
food  and  all  life's  necessities.  They  are 
compelled  to  live  in  frightful  disease-fos- 
tering quarters,  and  pay  exorbitant  rents 
for  the  accomodations  they  receive.  When 
sick  they  are  not  always  free  from  impo- 


42  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

sition,  even  when  they  receive  aid  in 
the  name  of  charity,  and  sometimes  theol- 
ogy, nnder  the  cloak  of  religion,  oppresses 
them.  This  last  thought  had  been  sug- 
gested by  seeing  in  our  rounds  some  half- 
starved  women  dropping  pennies  into  the 
hands  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  who  were  even 
here,  in  the  midst  of  terrible  want,  exacting 
from  the  starving,  money  for  a  church 
whose  coffers  groan  with  wealth.  0,  relig- 
ion, ineffably  radiant  and  exalting  in  thy 
pure  influence,  how  thou  art  often  debased 
by  thy  professed  followers!  How  much 
injustice  is  meted  out  to  the  very  poor,  and 
how  many  crimes  are  still  committed  under 
thy  cloak  and  in  thy  holy  name!  Even 
this  poor  widow  had  bitterly  suffered 
through  priests  who  belong  to  a  great 
communion,  claiming  to  follow  Him  who 
cried,  "Come  unto  me  all  ye  who  are 
weary  and  heavy  laden  and  1  will  give 
you  rest,"  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following, 
statements  given  me  by  my  companion,  who 
was  personally  cognizant  of  the  facts.  The 
husband  of  this  widow  was  out  of  work 
for  a  time,  and  being  too  ill  to  engage  in 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  43 

steady  work,  he  found  it  impossible  to  pay 
the  required  ten  cents  for  seats  in  the  church 
to  which  he  belonged,  and  was  consequently 
excluded  from  his  sitting.  Shortly  after 
he  fell  sick,  his  wife  sought  the  priest, 
imploring  him  to  administer  the  sacrament, 
and  later  extreme  unction,  which  he  posi- 
tively refused,  leaving  the  poor  man  to  die 
without  the  consolation  of  the  Church  he 
had  from  infancy  been  taught  to  love  and 
revere. 

It  is  not  strange  that  many  in  this 
world  of  misery  become  embittered  against 
society;  that  they  sometimes  learn  to  hate 
all  who  live  in  comfort,  and  who  represent 
the  established  order  of  things,  and  from 
the  rank  of  the  patient,  uncomplaining 
straggler  descend  to  a  lower  zone,  where 
the  moral  nature  is  eclipsed  by  degradation 
and  crime,  and  life  takes  on  a  deeper  shade 
of  horror.  This  class  of  people  exist  on 
the  brink  of  a  precipice.  Socially  they 
may  be  likened  to  the  physical  condition 
of  Victor  Hugo's  Claude  Frollo  after 
Quasimodo  had  hurled  him  from  the  tower 
of  Notre  Dame.     I  remember  the  sickening 


44  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

sensation  produced  by  that  wonderful  piece 
of  descriptive  work,  depicting  the  false 
priest  hanging  to  the  eaves,  vainly  strivinpi" 
to  ascend,  feeling  the  leaden  gutter  to 
which  he  was  holding  slowly  giving  away. 
His  hands  send  momentary  messages  to 
the  brain,  warning  it  that  endurance  is 
almost  exhausted.  Below  he  sees  the 
sharp  formidable  spires  of  Saint-Jean-de- 
Ronde,  and  immediately  under  him,  two 
hundred  feet  from  where  he  hangs  is  the 
hard  pavement,  where  men  appear  like 
pigmies.  Above  stands  the  avenging 
hunchback,  ready  to  hurl  him  back  if  he 
succeeds  in  climbing  over  the  eaves.  So 
these  poor  people  have  ever  below  them 
starvation,  eviction  and  sickness.  Above 
stands  Quasimodo  in  the  form  of  a  three- 
headed  monster:  a  soulless  landlord;  the 
slave  master  who  pays  only  starvation 
wages ;  and  disease,  the  natural  complement 
of  the  wretched  squalor  permitted  by  the 
one,  and  the  slow  starvation  necessarily 
incident  to  the  prices  paid  by  the  other. 
Their  lot  is  even  more  terrible  when  it  is 
remembered  that  their  fall  carries  with  it 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  45 

the  fate  of  their  loved  ones.  In  addition 
to  the  multitude  who  are  condemned  to 
suffer  through  uninvited  poverty,  with  no 
hopeful  outlook  before  them,  there  is 
another  class  constantly  on  the  brink  of 
real  distress,  and  liable,  at  any  time, 
to  suffer  bitterly  because  they  are  proud- 
spirited and  will  almost  starve  before 
they  ask  for  aid.  Space  prevents  me 
from  citing  more  than  one  illustration 
of  this  character.  In  an  apartment  house 
we  found  an  American  woman  with  a 
babe  two  weeks  old  and  a  little  girl. 
The  place  was  scrupulously  clean,  some- 
thing very  rare  in  this  zone  of  life.  The 
woman,  of  course,  was  weak  from  ill- 
ness, and,  as  yet,  unable  to  take  in  any 
work  to  speak  of.  Her  husband  had  been 
out  of  employment  for  a  few  weeks,  but 
had  just  shipped  on  board  a  sailing  vessel 
for  a  cruise  of  several  months.  The 
woman  did  not  intimate  that  they  were  in 
great  need,  as  she  hoped  to  soon  be  enabled 
to  make  some  money,  and  the  portion  of 
her  husband's  wages  she  was  allowed  to 
draw,  paid  the  rent.     A  week  ago,  hoW" 


46  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

ever,  the  little  girl  came  to  the  Bethel 
Mission  asking  for  a  loaf  of  bread.  "We 
have  had  nothing  to  eat  since  Monday 
morning,"  she  said,  "and  the  little  baby 
cries  all  the  time  because  mamma  can  give 
it  no  milk."  It  was  Wednesday  evening 
when  the  child  visited  the  Mission.  An 
investigation  substantiated  the  truth  of  the 
child's  words.  The  mother,  too  proud  to 
beg,  struggled  with  fate,  hoping  and  pray- 
ing to  be  able  to  succeed  without  asking 
for  aid,  but  seeing  her  babe  starving  to 
death,  she  yielded.  This  case  finds  many 
counterparts  where  a  little  aid  bridges  over 
a  period  of  frightful  want,  after  which  the 
unfortunates  are  able,  in  a  measure,  to  take 
care  of  themselves. 

I  find  it  impossible  in  this  chapter  to  touch 
upon  other  cases  I  desired  to  describe.  The 
above  illustrations  however,  typical  of  the 
life  and  environment  of  hundreds  of  fami- 
lies, are  sufficient  to  emphasize  a  condition 
wliich  exists  in  our  midst  and  which  is 
yearly  growing,  both  in  extent  and  in 
intensity  of  bitterness ;  a  condition  which  is 
little  understood  by  those  who  are  not  act- 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  47 

ually  broiiglit  in  contact  with  the  circum- 
stances as  thay  exist ;  a  condition  at  once 
revolting  and  appalling  to  every  sense  of 
humanity  and  justice.  We  cannot  afford 
to  remain  ignorant  of  the  real  status  of 
life  in  oar  midst,  any  more  than  w^e  can 
afford  to  sacrifice  truth  to  o^^timism.  It 
has  become  a  habit  with  some  to  make 
light  of  these  grim  and  terrible  facts,  to 
minify  the  suffering  experienced,  or  to  try 
and  impute  the  terrible  condition  to  drink. 
This  may  l)e  pleasant  but  it  will  never 
alter  conditions  or  aid  the  cause  of  reform. 
It  is  our  duty  honestly  to  face  the  deplor- 
oble  conditions  and  to  endeavor  while 
ameliorating  the  suffering,  to  bring  about 
radical  reformatory  measures  calculated  to 
invest  life  with  a  new  and  joyous  signifi- 
cance for  this  multitude  so  long  exiled 
from  joy,  gladness,  and  comfort. 

We  now  come  to  the  practical  question. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  But  before  viewing 
the  problem  in  its  broader  aspects,  I 
wish  to  say  a  word  in  regard  to  the 
direct  measures  for  immediate  relief,  which 
it  is  fashionable    among   many   reformers 


48  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

to  dismiss  as  unworthy  of  consideration. 
It  is  very  necessary  in  a  discussion  of 
this  character  to  view  the  problem  in 
all  its  bearings,  and  adjust  the  mental 
vision  so  as  to  recognize  the  utility 
of  the  various  plans  advanced  by  sincere 
reformers.  I  have  frequently  heard  it 
urged  that  these  palliative  measures  tend 
to  retard  the  great  radical  reformative 
movements,  which  are  now  taking  hold  of 
the  public  mind.  This  view,  however  com- 
fortable to  those  who  prefer  theorizing  and 
agitating  to  putting  their  shoulder  to  the 
wheel  in  a  practical  way,  is  nevertheless, 
erroneous.  There  is  no  way  in  which  people 
can  be  so  thoroughly  aroused  to  the  urg- 
ent necessity  of  radical  economic  changes, 
as  by  bringing  them  into  such  intimate 
relations  with  the  submerged  millions  that 
they  hear  the  throbbing  of  misery's  heart. 
The  moral  lethargy  of  our  people  is 
unquestionably  due  to  lack  of  knowledge 
more  than  anything  else.  The  people  do 
not  begin  to  realize  the  true  condition  of 
life  in  the  ever-widening  field  of  abject 
want.      When   they   know    and   are   suffi- 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  49 

ciently  interested  to  investigate  the  prob- 
lem personally  and  aid  the  suffering,  then 
they  will  appreciate  as  never  before,  the 
absolute  necessity  for  radical  economic 
changes,  which  contemplate  a  greater  need 
of  justice  and  happiness,  than  any  measurec 
yet  devised.  But,  aside  from  this,  we  must 
not  forget  the  fact  that  we  have  a  duty  to 
perform  to  the  living,  no  less  than  to  the 
generations  yet  unborn.  The  common- 
wealth of  to-day,  as  well  as  that  of  to-mor- 
row, demands  our  aid.  Millions  are  in  the 
cpiicksands;  yearly,  monthly,  daily,  hourly 
they  are  sinking  deeper  and  deeper.  We 
can  save  them  while  the  bridges  are  being 
built.  To  withhold  the  planks  upon  which 
life  and  happiness  depend,  is  no  less  crim- 
inal than  to  refuse  to  face  the  question  in 
its  broader  aspects,  and  labor  for  funda- 
mental economic  changes.  A  great  work 
of  real,  practical,  and  enduring  value,  how- 
ever, is  being  wrought  each  year  by  those 
in  charge  of  local  mission  work  in  the 
slums,  and  by  individuals  who  mingle  with 
and  study  the  actual  condition  of  the 
very    poor.      The    good    accomplished    by 


50  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

those  persons  who  are  giving  their  lives  to 
uplifting  society's  exiles  is  little  understood 
because  it  is  quiet  and  unostentatious ;  yet 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  silent 
workers,  thousands  of  persons  are  annually 
kept  from  starvation  and  crime,  while  for 
many  of  them  new,  broad,  and  hopeful  hor- 
izons are  constantly  coming  in  view.* 

*  The  extent  and  character  of  this  work  will  be  more  read- 
ily understood  by  noting  the  labor  accomplished  by  the  Bethei 
Mission  in  the  North  End,  which  is  doing  more  than  any  other 
single  organization  in  that  section  of  the  city  for  the  dwellers 
of  the  slums.  Here,  under  the  efficient  management  of  Kev. 
Walter  J.  Swaffield,  work  is  intelligently  pushed  with  untir- 
ing zeal  and  in  a  perfectly  sj'stematic  manner.  From  a  social 
and  liumanitarian  point  of  view,  this  work  may  be  briefly 
summed  up  as  follows  :  [i.]  looking  after  the  tempo- 
ral   AND    IMMEDIATE    WANTS    OF    THOSE    WHO    ARE     REALLY 

SUFFERING.  Here  cases  are  quietly  and  sympathetically 
investigated.  Food  is  often  jim-chased  ;  the  rents  are  some- 
times paid  ;  old  clothes  are  distributed  where  they  are 
most  needed,  and  in  many  ways  the  temporal  wants  are 
looked  after,  while  kind,  friendly  visitation  to  between  one 
and  two  hundred  veiy  needy  families,  comprises  a  portion  of 
each  month's  Avork.  [2.]  The  sailors'  boarding-house. 
A  large,  clean,  liomelilce  building  is  fitted  up  for  sailors. 
Every  American  vessel  that  comes  into  port  is  visited  by  a 
member  of  the  ^lission  who  invites  the  sailors  to  remain  at 
this  model  homo  for  seamen.  In  this  way  hundreds  yearly 
escape  the  vicious  contagion  of  the  wretched  sailors'  board- 
ing-houses of  this  part  of  the  city,  or  what  is  still  more  import- 
ant, avoid  undreamed-of  vice,  degradation,  and  disease  by 
going  with  companions  to  dens  of  infamy.  [3.]  Secur- 
ing comfortable  homes  and  good  positions  for  the 
young  who  are  thus  enabled  to  rise  out  of  the  night 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  51 

Let  us  now  examine  a  broader  aspect  of 
this  problem.  So  long  as  the  wretched, 
filthy  dens  of  dirt,,  vermin,  and  disease  stand 
as  the  only  shelter  for  the  children  of  the 
slums,  so  long  will  moral  and  physical  con- 
tagion flourish  and  send  forth  death-dealing 
germs;  so  long  Avill  crime  and  degradation 


AND   OPPRESSION   OF   THIS    TERRIBLE    EXISTENCE.      TIlis,    it    is 

needless  to  add,  is  a  very  difficult  task,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
society  slirinks  from  its  exiles  ;  few  persons  will  give  any  one 
a  chance  who  is  known  to  have  belonged  to  the  slums. 
Xevertheless  good  positions  are  yearly  secured  for  a  number  of 
these  children    of    adversity.      [4.]     The    children's  free 

INDUSTRIAL  SCHOOL  IN  WHICH  THE  YOUNG  ARE  TAUGHT  USE- 
FUL    TRADES,    OCCUPATIONS,     AND    MEANS     OP     EMPLOYMENT. 

In  this  training-school  the  little  girls  are  taught  to  make  them- 
selves garments.  The  material  is  furnished  them  free  and 
when  they  have  completed  the  garment  it  is  given  them. 
[.5.]  Summer  vacations  in  the  country  are  provided 
FOR  several  hundred  CHILDREN ;  somo  for  a  few  days, 
some  a  week,  some  two  weeks,  as  the  exigencies  of  the 
case  require  and  the  limited  funds  j)ormit.  These  little  oases 
in  the  children's  dreary  routine  life  are  looked  forward  to 
with  even  greater  anticipations  of  joy  than  is  Christmas  in  the 
homes  of  the  rich.  I  have  cited  the  work  of  this  Mission 
because  I  have  personally  investigated  its  work,  and  have 
.seen  the  immense  good  that  is  being  done  with  the  very  lim- 
ited funds  at  the  command  of  Mr.  Swaffield  and  his  assist- 
ants, and  also  to  show  by  an  illustration  how  much  may  be 
accomplished  for  the  immediate  relief  of  the  sufferers.  A 
grand  palliative  work  requires  labor  and  money.  It  is  not 
enough  for  those  who  live  in  our  great  cities  to  contribute  to 
such  work,  they  should  visit  these  quarters  and  see  for 
themselves.  This  would  change  many  into  active  mission- 
aries who  aro  indifferent  to-day. 


52  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

increase,  demanding  more  policemen,  more 
numerous  judiciary,  and  larger  prisons.  No 
great,  permanent  or  far-reacliing  reforma- 
tion can  be  brought  about  until  the  habita- 
tions of  the  people  are  radically  improved. 
The  recognition  of  this  fact  has  already  led 
to  a  practical,  palliative  measure  for  relief 
which  must  challenge  the  admiration  of  all 
thoughtful  persons  interested  in  the  wel- 
fare of  society's  exiles.  It  is  a  step  in  the 
dh^ection  of  justice.  It  is  not  merely  a 
w^ork  of  charity;  it  is,  I  think,  the  most 
feasible  immediate  measure  that  can  be 
employed,  which  will  change  the  whole 
aspect  of  life  for  tens  of  thousands,  making 
existence  mean  something,  and  giving  a 
wonderful  significance  to  the  now  mean- 
ingless-word "home."  I  refer  to  the  erec- 
tion of  model  tenement  apartments  in  our 
over-crowded  sections,  such,  for  example,  as 
the  Victoria  Square  dwelling  of  Liverpool. 
Here,  on  the  former  site  of  miserable 
tenement  houses,  sheltering  more  than  a 
thousand  people,  stands  to-day  a  palatial 
structure  built  around  a  hollow  square,  the 
major  part  of  which  is  utilized  as  a  large 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  53 

sli rub-encircled  playground  for  the  children. 
The  halls  and  stairways  of  the  building  are 
broad,  light,  and  airy ;  the  ventilation  and 
sanitary  arrangements  perfect.  The  apart- 
ments are  divided  into  one,  two,  and  three 
rooms  each.  No  room  is  smaller  than  13  x 
8  feet  6  inches;  most  of  them  are  12  x  lo 
feet  4  inches.  All  the  ceilings  are  9  feet 
high.  A  superintendent  looks  after  the 
building.  The  tenants  are  expected  to  be 
orderly,  and  to  keep  their  apartments  clean. 
The  roomy  character  of  halls  and  chambers 
may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  there 
are  only  two  hundred  and  seventy-five 
apartments  in  the  entire  building.  The 
returns  on  the  total  expenditure  of  the 
building,  wdiich  was  $338,800.00,  it  is  esti- 
mated will  bo  at  least  4  1-2  per  cent,  while 
the  rents  are  as  follows :  $1.44  per  week  for 
the  three-room  tenements,  $1.08  per  week 
for  those  containing  tAvo  large  rooms,  and 
54  cents  for  the  one-room  quarters.  In 
Boston,  the  rents  for  tlie  dreadful  one- 
room  cellars  are  $1.00  a  week;  for  the 
two-room  tenements  above  the  cellars, 
the    rent,    ranged    from    $1.50    to    $2.50; 


54  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

three  rooms  were,  of  course,  much  higher. 
The  rooms  also  are  fnr  smaller  here 
than  those  in  the  beautiful,  healthful, 
and  inviting  Victoria  Square  apartments. 
Yet  it  will  be  observed  that  our  land- 
lords receive  more  than  double  the  rental 
paid  in  this  building  for  dens  which 
would  be  a  disgrace  to  barbarism.  A  sim- 
ilar experiment,  in  many  respects  even 
more  remarkable  than  that  recently  in- 
augurated in  Liverpool,  is  found  in  the 
Peabody  dwellings  in  London.  These 
apartments  have  been  in  successful  opera- 
tion for  many  3'ears,  while  the  results 
attending  them  have  been  so  marked  and 
salutary,  that  no  discussion  of  this  subject 
would  be  complete  which  failed  to  give  some 
of  the  most  important  facts  relating  to 
them.  I  know  of  no  single  act  of  philan- 
thropy that  towers  so  nobly  above  the  sordid 
greed  of  the  struggling  multitude  of  mil- 
lionaires as  does  this  splendid  work  of 
George  Peabody,  by  which  to-day,  twenty 
thousand  people,  who,  but  for  him,  would 
be  in  the  depths  of  the  slums,  are  fronting  a 
bright  future,  and  with  souls  full  of  hope 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  55 

are  struggling  into  a  higher  civilization.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Peabody 
donated  at  intervals  extending  over  a 
period  of  eleven  years,  or  from  1862  to 
1873,  £500,000  or  $2,500,000  to  this  pro- 
ject of  relieving  the  poor.  He  specified 
that  his  purpose  was  to  ameliorate  the 
condition  of  the  poor  and  needy  of  Lon- 
don and  promote  their  comfort  and  happi- 
ness, making  only  the  following  condi- 
tions :  — 

"First  and  foremost  amongst  them  is  the  limit- 
ation of  its  uses,  absolutely  and  exclusively,  to 
such  purposes  as  may  be  calculated  directly  to 
ameliorate  the  condition  and  augment  the  com- 
forts of  the  poor,  who,  either  by  birth  or  establish- 
lished  residence,  form  a  recognized  portion  of  the 
population  of  London. 

"  Secondly,  it  is  my  intention  that  now,  and  for 
all  time,  there  shall  be  a  rigid  exclusion  from  the 
management  of  this  fund,  of  any  influences  calcu- 
lated to  impart  to  it  a  character  either  sectarian 
as  regards  religion,  or  exclusive  in  relation  to 
party  politics. 

"  Thirdly,  it  is  my  wish  that  the  sole  qualifica- 
tion for  a  participation  in  tlie  benefits  of  the  fund 
shall  be  an  ascertained  and  continued  condition  of 
life,  such  as  brings  the  individual  within  the 
description  (in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word)  of 
the  poor  of  London:  combined  with  moral  char- 
acter, and  good  conduct  as  a  member  of  society." 


56  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

Realizing  that  little  could  be  hoped  for 
from  individuals  or  their  offspring,  who 
were  condemned  to  a  life  in  vile  dens, 
where  the  squalor  and  wretchedness  was 
only  equalled  by  the  poisonous,  disease- 
breeding  atmosphere  and  the  general  filth 
which  characterized  the  tenement  districts, 
the  trustees  Mr.  Peabody  selected  to  carry 
forward  his  work,  engaged  in  the  erection 
of  a  large  building  accommodating  over  two 
hundred  persons  at  a  cost  of  $136,500.  This 
apartment  house,  which  is  substantially  uni- 
form with  the  seventeen  additional  build- 
ings since  constructed  from  the  Peabody 
fund,  is  five  stories  high,  built  around  a 
hollow  square,  thus  giving  plenty  of  fresh 
air  and  sunshine  to  the  rear  as  well  as  the 
front  of  the  entire  building.  The  square 
affords  a  large  playground  for  the  children, 
where  they  are  in  no  danger  of  being  run 
over  by  vehicles,  and  where  they  are  under 
the  immediate  qjq  of  many  of  the  parents. 
The  building  is  divided  into  tenements  of 
one,  two,  and  three  room  apartments, 
according  to  the  requirements  of  the  occu- 
pant.    There  are  also  nine   stores   on   the 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  57 

ground  floor,  which  bring  a  rental  of  some- 
thing over  $1,500  a  year  for  each  of  the 
buildings.  By  careful,  honest,  and  consci- 
entious business  management,  the  original 
sum  of  $2,500,000  has  been  almost  doubled, 
while  comfortable,  healthful  homes  have 
been  procured  for  an  army  of  over  20,000 
persons.  Some  of  the  apartments  contain 
four  rooms,  many  three,  some  two,  others 
one.  The  average  rent  is  about  $1.15  for 
au  apartment.  The  average  price  for 
tliree-room  apartments  in  the  wretched 
tenements  of  London,  is  $1.45  a  week. 
In  the  Peabody  dwellings,  the  death 
rate  is  .96  per  one  thousand  below  the 
average  in  London.  Thus  it  will  be  seen 
that  while  large,  healthful,  airy,  and  cheer- 
ful homes  have  been  provided  for  over 
20,000  human  beings  at  a  lower  figure 
than  the  wretched  disease-fostering  and 
crime-breeding  tenements  of  our  soulless 
landlords,  the  Peabody  fund  has,  since 
1862,  grown  to  nearly  $5,000,000,  or 
almost  twice  the  sum  given  for  the  work 
by  the  great  philanthropist.  No  words 
can  adecpiately  describe  the  magnitude  of 


58  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 


this  splendid  work,  any  more  than  we  can 
measure  the  good  it  has  accomplished,  the 
crime  prevented,  or  the  lives  that  through 
it  have  become  useful  members  of  soci- 
ety. In  the  Liverpool  experiment,  the 
work  has  been  prosecuted  by  the  munici- 
pal government.  In  the  Peabody  dwell- 
ings, it  has,  of  course,  been  the  work  of  an 
individual,  carried  on  by  a  board  of  high- 
minded,  honorable,  and  philanthropic  gen- 
tlemen. To  my  mind  it  seems  far  more 
practicable  for  philanthropic,  monied  men 
to  prosecute  this  work  as  a  business  invest- 
ment, specifying  in  their  wills  that  rents 
shall  not  rise  above  a  figure  necessary  to 
insure  a  fair  interest  on  the  money,  rather 
than  leave  it  for  city  governments,  as  in 
the  latter  case  it  would  be  in  great  danger 
of  becoming  an  additional  stronghold  for 
unscrupulous  city  officials  to  use  for  polit- 
ical purposes.  Here  is  a  noble  field  for 
men  with  millions  to  bless  the  race  by  fol- 
lowing Mr.  Peabody's  example.  If,  instead 
of  willing  every  year  princely  sums  to  old, 
rich,  and  conservative  educational  insti- 
tutions,  which   already  possess   far   more 


SOCIETY'S  EXILES.  59 

money  than  they  require,  —  wealthy  per- 
sons would  bequeath  sums  for  the  erection 
of  buildings  after  the  manner  of  the  Victo- 
ria Square  or  the  Peabody  Dwellings,  a  won- 
derful transformation  would  soon  appear 
in  our  cities.  Crhne  would  diminish;  life 
would  rise  to  a  higher  level;  and  from  the 
hearts  and  brains  of  tens  of  thousands,  a 
great  and  terrible  load  would  be  lifted. 
Yet  noble  and  praiseworthy  as  is  this  work, 
we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact,  that,  at 
best,  it  is  only  a  palliative  measure:  a 
grand,  noble,  beneficent  work  which  chal- 
lenges our  admiration,  and  should  receive 
our  cordial  support ;  still  it  is  only  a 
palliative. 

There  are  fundamental  principles  in- 
volved in  this  question  which  make  for 
justice,  and  open  up  the  broader  aspect  of 
this  social  problem  about  which  I  will  have 
more  to  say  in  other  chapters.  I,  there- 
fore, for  the  present,  dismiss  it  with  a  word. 
As  long  as  speculation  continues  in  that 
great  gift  of  God  to  man,  land,  the  prob-  ^ 
lem  will  be  unsettled.  So  long  as  the 
landlords   find   that   the    more    wretched, 


60  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

filthy,  rickety  and  loathsome  a  building  is, 
the  lower  will  be  the  taxes,  he  will  con- 
tinue to  make  some  of  the  ever-increasing 
army  of  bread-winners  dwell  in  his  foul, 
disease-impregnated  dens. 

The  present  economic  system  is  being 
rapidly  outgrown.  Man's  increasing  intel- 
ligence, sense  of  justice,  and  the  humani- 
tarian spirit  of  the  age,  demand  radical 
changes,  which  will  come  immeasurably 
nearer  securing  equal  opportunities  for  all 
persons  than  the  past  ages  have  dreamed 
possible.  No  sudden  or  rash  measure,  cal- 
culated to  convulse  business  and  work  great 
suffering,  should  be  entertained,  but  our 
future  action  should  rest  on  a  broad,  sett- 
led policy  founded  upon  justice,  tempered  by 
moderation,  keeping  in  view  the  great 
work  of  banishing  uninvited  poverty,  and 
elevating  the  great  struggling  millions  to 
a  higher  level,  without  sacrificing  that 
individualism  which  is  essential  to  growth. 


TWO  HOURS 
IN   THE   SOCIAL   CELLAR. 


61 


Slow  fades  the  pageant,  and  the  phantom  stage 
As  slowly  filled  with  squalid,  ghastly  forms; 
Here,  over  fireless  hearths,  cowered  shivering  Age 
And  hlew  with  feeble  breath  dead  embers;  storms 
Hung  in  the  icy  welkin,  and  the  bare 
Earth  lay  forlorn  in  Winter's  charnel  air. 

No  careless  childhood  laughed  disportingly, 

But  dwarfed,  jiale  mandrakes,  with  a  century's  gloom 

On  infant  brows,  beneath  a  poison  tree, 

"With  skeleton  fingers  plied  a  ghastly  loom ; 

Mocking  in  cynic  jests  life's  gravest  things, 

They  wove  gay  king-robes,  muttering,  "What  are  kings  ?  " 

And  thro'  that  dreary  Hades  to  and  fro, 
Stalked  all  unheeded,  the  Tatarean  guests  : 
Grim  Discontent,  that  loathes  the  Gods,  and  Woe, 
Clasping  dead  infants  to  her  milkless  breasts; 
And  madding  Hate,  and  Force,  with  iron  heel, 
And  voiceless  Vengeance,  sharpening  secret  steel. 

"  Can  such  things  be  below  and  God  above  ?  " 
Faltered  the  king.    Replied  the  genius,  "  Nay, 
This  is  the  state  that  sages  most  approve ; 
This  is  man  civilized,  the  perfect  sway 
Of  merchant  kings,  the  ripeness  of  the  art 
Which  cheapens  men  —  the  Elysium  of  the  Mart." 

— Bulwer  Lyiton  in  King  A  rthur. 


62 


TWO  HOUBS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAB.     63 


III. 

TWO   HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL 
CELLAR. 

Further  journeyings  through  the  shims  —  Scenes  of  misery  in 
the  domain  of  uninvited  poverty  in  Boston  —  Recent 
scenes  in  the  social  cellars  of  New  York  —  Illustrations, 
showing  how  present  conditions  foster  wealth,  and 
inci-ease  poverty  —  The  evils  of  our  system  of  taxation  — 
Immigration  —  Speculation  in  land  —  Monopoly  in  trans- 
portation —  Significant  hints. 

IT  is  my  purpose,  in  this  chapter,  to  con- 
tinue our  examination  of  that  part  of 
the  social  cellar  where  uninvited  poverty 
holds  sway.  Later  we  will  descend  into  a 
lower  zone  of  life .  It  must  be  evident  to  every 
thoughtful  student  of  sociology  that  radical 
economic  changes  must  be  brought  about 
before  the  rising  tide  of  poverty  and  misery 
can  receive  a  substantial  check.  Few  peo- 
ple have  any  adequate  idea  of  the  nature 
or  extent  of  the  sufferings  among  the  very 


64  CIV  ILIZ  AT  ION'S  INFERNO. 

poor  in  our  great  cities  ;  and,  until  the  facts 
are  generally  known,  no  measures  can  be 
brought  about  Avhicli  will  strike  effective 
blows  at  the  grave  injustice  which  fathers 
so  much  misery. 

The  principal  scenes  I  am  about  to 
describe  met  my  view  on  a  bitter  winter's 
afternoon  in  January*  The  wind  pene- 
trated to  the  very  bone.  The  atmos- 
phere was  charged  with  moisture,  which 
seemed  to  herald  a  heavy  snow  when  the 
air  should  become  a  little  warmer.  We 
first  stopped  at  a  place  I  had  on  other  occa- 
sions visited,  bat  this  time  I  found  a  great 
change  for  the  better.  True,  the  halls  were 
as  dark  as  before,  and  the  omnipresent 
odor  of  garbage  was  as  stifling  as  on  former 
visits,  but  within  this  tenement  a  great 
change  was  noticeable ;  the  walls  and  ceiling 
were  newly  whitewashed  and  papered,  and 
the  place  was,  in  comparison  with  its  former 
appearance,  positively  cheery  and  inviting. 
I  was  amazed,  knowing  the  greed}'  pro- 
pensities of  the  Croesuses  who  own  these 
wretched  dens.     Had  the  owner  actually 


TWO  nouns  in  the  social  cellar.    g5 

visited  these  quarters  ?  Had  his  heart  soft- 
ened? Had  he  determined  to  make  one 
home  happy  and  inviting,  by  the  voluntary 
outlay  of  a  few  dollars  of  his  extortionate 
rent?  B}^  no  means.  My  companion*  who 
accompanied  me,  explained  the  mystery. 
It  was  disease  which  had  brought  about  the 
change.  A  terrible  disease  —  diphtheria  — 
not  often  considered  a  blessing  in  disguise, 
in  this  case  proved  such,  as  the  Board  of 
Health  had  compelled  the  landlord  to  thor- 
oughly renovate,  whitewash,  and  newly 
paper  the  rooms.  This  apartment  is  occu- 
pied by  a  woman  whose  husband  is  an  inva- 
lid in  the  Western  Islands.  She  supports 
herself  and  two  children  by  working  on  pants, 
at  what  may  be  regarded  starvation  wages  ; 
but  her  lot  is  less  pitiable  than  that  of  hun- 
dreds of  others  in  this  section  of  Boston. 

We  next  stepped  up  an  alley-way  lead- 
ing from  one  of  the  principal  streets, 
and  found  ourselves  facing  a  large  rook- 
ery, dark,  dirty,  and  uninviting  with- 
out, but  the  exterior  was  far  more  inviting 

*Rev.  W.  J.  Swaflield  has  accompanied  me  iu  all  my  jour- 
neyiugs  through  the  slums  of  the  ISTorth  End, 


6(1  CIVTL  TZ.  1  TION '  -S  LYFERNO. 

than  the  interior  —  halls  dark  as  midnight 
m  a  dungeon;  air  heavy  with  foul  odors, 
and  seemingly  devoid  of  oxygen ;  the  banis- 
ters greasy  and  the  stairs  much  worn,  as 
we  could  feel  rather  than  see. 

Here  a  succession  of  never-to-be-forgot- 
ten pictures  met  our  eyes,  depicting  at  once 
the  startling  inhumanity  of  wealth  and  the 
infinite  misery  of  poverty  in  the  modern 
Athens.  In  one  room  a  young  woman, 
with  a  remarkably  bright  and  attractive 
face,  was  busy  at  her  washing.  She  has 
six  children  and  a  mother  to  support,  dur- 
ing the  absence  of  her  husband,  who  is 
at  sea.  She  washes  and  scrubs  for  a 
livelihood. 

"  We  do  very  well,"  she  said,  with  a  half- 
uttered  sigh  and  a  shadow  flitting  over  her 
cheerful  face,  ''when  we  can  get  work." 
"This  week,"  she  continued,  "1  have  been 
very  fortunate,  and  have  been  kept  quite 
busy." 

"  What  rent  do  you  pay  for  these  two 
rooms  . 

"  Two  dollars  and  a  half  a  week." 

I  was  startled.     Two  dollars  and  a  half 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.      G7 

for  these  wretched  dens  m  the  heart  of  the 
slums!  One  hundred  and  thirty  dollars  a 
year  for  rent !  Surely  Shylock  ought  soon 
to  be  able  to  buy  a  high  place  in  public 
esteem  on  such  a  rich  harvest  of  blood 
money.  Surely  he  ought  to  be  able  to 
enjoy  steam  launches  and  private  cars. 
His  children  might  summer  in  Europe, 
and  winter  in  Florida;  and  how  munificent 
might  be  his  gifts  to  churches,  colleges, 
and  libraries ;  while,  if  he  owns  several  such 
buildings,  he  would  still  be  able  to  live  in 
sumptuous  luxury. 

We  visited  several  tenements  in  this 
same  building,  which  told  practically  the 
same  story,  so  far  as  biting  poverty  and 
general  all-around  wretchedness  were  con- 
cerned. At  last  we  reached  the  attic. 
Here  one  small  dormer  window  afforded  all 
the  light  for  the  main  room.  On  one  side 
of  this  window  the  roof  slanted  to  the  floor. 
In  the  corner,  under  this  low-bending  ceil- 
ing, was  a  pile  of  rags,  upon  which  lay  two 
half-naked  little  waifs,  suffering  with  an 
acute  attack  of  influenza,  induced  by  inabil- 
ity, on  the  parents'  part,  to  obtain  any  fuel 


G8  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

^\lien  the  cold  spell  set  in.  The  father, 
behig  a  chronic  invalid,  the  mother  has  to 
support  the  family.  In  a  crib  was  a  seven- 
year-old  child,  whose  large  and  expressive 
eyes  wandered  from  the  ceiling  to  the 
equally  dismal  wall,  from  thence  to  us,  and 
then  to  its  mother,  at  sight  of  whom  a 
visible  smile  spoke  of  love  and  a  sense  of 
security.  When  we  entered  the  room,  the 
mother  looked  up  hastily,  and  a  smile  flit- 
ted across  her  sad  face  as  she  saw  my  com- 
panion, who  is  looked  upon  much  as  a 
father  by  numbers  of  families  in  this  world 
of  wretchedness.  She  did  not,  however, 
relax  her,  work.  After  the  first  salutation, 
steadily,  almost  ferociously,  she  plied  her 
rieedle,  glancing  apprehensively  once  or 
twice  at  the  slowly  increasing  gloom  with- 
out. She  seemed  greedy  for  the  light.  Each 
moment  must  be  utilized.  A  dark  day  at 
best,  night  would  soon  come,  and  that  meant 
cessation  of  work  or  the  employment  of  lights, 
and  lights  cost  money.  To  a  person  who  has 
but  a  few  cents  with  which  to  supply  life's 
ni.iny  demands,  even  a  light  means  much. 
Yes,   sLe    must    iuiprove    every    moment; 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.      69 

there  was  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  week  rent 
to  pay;  there  was  food  to  buy.  Was  it 
not  for  lack  of  money  to  buy  fuel  that  her 
children  now  suffered?  And  that  suffer- 
ing alone  brought  more  than  anxious  care ; 
it  called  for  medical  advice  and  remedies. 
When  we  laid  some  oranges  on  the  table, 
saying  we  thought  the  children  would  enjoy 
them,  again  a  smile,  or  rather  the  phantom 
of  a  smile,  crept  across  her  face  as  she 
thanked  us;  but  in  a  moment  it  was  gone, 
and  the  leathery  skin  assumed  the  old 
expression  of  profound  melancholy.  As  I 
studied  that  face,  bronzed  and  furrowed  in 
the  most  wearing  and  terrible  battle  known 
to  modern  times;  as  my  eye  fell  on  that 
little  human  register  of  hope  and  fear,  love 
and  anguish,  I  could  not  escape  the  thought 
that  here,  in  the  compass  of  a  single  brain, 
lay  a  record  of  the  misery  common  to  mil- 
lions to-day  in  the  very  noon-tide  of  Chris- 
tian civilization.  T  felt  that  a  thrill  of 
unutterable  horror  would  pulsate  through 
the  being  of  every  man  and  woman  in  soci- 
ety, from  the  wealthy  landlord,  to  the 
limnble  artisan,  who  yet   earns  a  respect- 


70  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

able  living,  if  by  some  marvellous  power, 
that  wonderful  plioto-plionograpli,  called 
the  brain,  could  unroll  the  history  of  this 
life,  from  the  time  when,  an  infant,  with 
bright,  wonder-lit  eyes,  she  nestled  on  a 
mother's  breast,  until  now  —  a  wreck,  bent, 
haggard,  old  before  the  time  for  age  to 
stamp  its  impress.  This  poor  woman,  in 
the  eventide  of  day  and  life,  typifies  the 
condition  of  millions  of  God's  children  who 
are  the  legitimate  products  of  our  nine- 
teenth century  civilization. 

From  this  attic,  after  visiting  many 
other  quarters  scarcely  less  terrible,  and 
all  j)resenting  substantially  the  same  pic- 
ture of  chronic  wretchedness,  we  descended 
several  steps,  and  found  ourselves  in  a 
cellar  apartment,  about  half  underground. 
The  ceiling  was  only  seven  and  one  half 
feet  from  the  floor.  If  these  rooms  ever 
contained  any  salable  articles  of  furniture, 
they  had  disappeared;  and  the  woman 
related  to  us,  with  quivering  lip  and  tears 
starting  from  her  eyes,  the  terrible  fact  that 
for  three  days  they  had  had  no  fire.  On 
one  of  these  days  the  thermometer  at  the 


TWO  HOURS  ly  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     71 

Blue  Hill  Observatory  had  registered  two 
degrees  below  zero.  The  husband,  who  had 
lost  his  work  on  account  of  sickness,  had  just 
succeeded  in  securing  some  broken-up  wood, 
in  pay  for  a  day's  work.  Neither  the  man 
nor  woman  had  any  appearance  of  being 
addicted  to  drink.  The  man  said,  with 
feeling,  "All  I  want  is  work."  The  poor 
woman,  in  consequence  of  being  thus 
exposed  in  this  damp  and  freezing  cellar, 
without  a  spark  of  fire,  was  in  agony  from 
rheumatism;  her  lungs  also  were  affected. 
Seldom  have  I  witnessed  a  scene  so  abso- 
lutely hopeless,  so  dreary,  so  well  calculated 
to  bring  a  feeling  of  overpowering  heart- 
sickness  to  any  sensitive  soul,  as"  this. 
Here  was  a  family  of  seven,  apparently 
sober  and  reasonably  intelligent,  only  ask- 
ing for  work.  The  rent  paid  is  one  dollar 
and  a  half  a  week,  for  a  den  not  fit  for 
dumb  animals  to  live  in.  The  atmos- 
phere, owing  to  the  proximity  of  out- 
buildings, was  horrible  beyond  description. 
After  relieving  the  present  needs  ot  these 
sufferers  we  left  the  apartment,  knowing 
that  the  cloud  had,  for  the  moment,  been 


72  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

lifted;  yet  the  relief  was  only  temporary. 
The  next  month,  through  sickness  or  in- 
ability to  obtain  work,  they  were  liable  to 
be  in  as  deplorable  a  condition  as  we  had 
found  them;  and  this  is  a  single  typical 
case  taken  from  hundreds  who  are  prac- 
tically in  the  same  condition.  No  charity 
work,  however  wisely  carried  on,  can 
take  the  place  oi  justice;  and  though  char- 
ity, at  the  present  time,  is  very  necessary, 
it  is  radical  social  and  economic  changes 
that  are  urgently  demanded.  This  common- 
wealth of  misery  and  despair  is  largely  the 
legitimate  product  of  unjust  social  con- 
ditions. Its  inhabitants  are  victims  of 
human  selfishness  and  greed  —  prisoners 
of  poverty — driven  toward  starvation  by 
the  merciless  lash  of  law,  in  the  hands  of 
injustice.  This  is  a  fact  which  cannot  be 
too  often  stated. 

Another  scene  I  will  touch  upon,  only 
to  show  how  extreme  poverty  crushes  the 
more  refined  and  delicate  sensibilities  of 
the  human  soid,  as  well  as  blunts,  in  a 
more  general  way,  the  moral  nature.  We 
foimd  an  attic  inhabited  by  a  brother  and 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     73 

a  sister.  The  latter  had  just  stepped  out; 
the  brother  was  at  home.  He  seemed 
about  forty  years  of  age  and  rather  Ijelow 
the  average  in  intelligence,  even  in  this 
district.  The  apartments  gave  every  evi- 
dence of  the  most  abject  poverty,  contain- 
ing a  single  bed  for  its  occupants,  a  deplor- 
able fact  which  my  friend  had  mentioned 
as  we  were  wending  our  way  up  the  dark 
stairs.  Terrible,  indeed,  is  such  a  spectacle ; 
but  when  poverty  touches  the  borders  of 
starvation,  we  have  no  right  to  judge 
harshly.  They  may  have  maintained  their 
virtue  even  thus;  it  is  not  our  place  to 
judge  individuals,  especially  in  such  desper- 
ate straits.  But  this  we  do  say,  social 
conditions  which  crush  people  into  these 
extremities  are  being  judged,  and  the  trial 
will  not  be  over  until  justice,  in  a  broader 
acceptation  than  society  has  ever  recog- 
nized it,  has  been  established. 

In  one  cellar,  seven  and  one-half  feet 
from  floor  to  ceiling,  we  found  an  American 
lady  who  had  been  accustomed  to  far  differ- 
ent circumstances.  She  was  a  person  of 
education  and  refinement.    Her  apartments; 


74  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

though  surrounded  by  filth  and  squalor, 
were  as  clean  as  if  the  environment  wooed 
cleanliness  and  fanned  hope.  I  have  never 
heard  purer  English  spoken  than  she  used. 
Every  word  and  movement  indicated  refine- 
ment. Her  husband  died  three  years  before, 
leaving  her  with  two  little  girls.  For  one 
she  had  secured  a  home  in  New  Hampshire. 
The  other,  a  beautiful  though  delicate  little 
tot  of  about  five  years,  remained  with  her. 
This  child  was  a  veritable  rose  among 
thorns,  polite  and  refined  in  manner.  On 
receiving  some  oranges,  she  bowed  with 
easy  grace,  saying,  "  Oh,  I  thank  you,  sir ! " 
while  her  dancing  eyes  expressed  the  joy 
that  had  entered  her  heart.  The  mother 
showed  photographs  of  her  dead  husband 
and  her  elder  daughter,  who,  through  the  ex- 
igencies of  want  had  been  compelled  to  find 
a  home  more  than  a  hundred  miles  away. 
The  little  girl  brought  out  a  scrap-book, 
given  her  by  her  father,  before  he  died; 
it  was  clean  and  well  preserved.  I  note 
these  facts  to  show  that  even  here  in  the 
slums,  in  the  direst  poverty,  in  a  cellar 
without  a  sign  of  fire  and  with   scarcely 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     75 

any  furniture,  a  mother  and  her  child 
preserved,  against  all  the  crushing  influence 
of  environment,  their  refinement,  cleanli- 
ness and  that  sweet  spirit  which  so  often 
dies  when  hope  vanishes. 

Such  are  a  few  typical  pictures  of  life 
today  in  Boston,  and  the  wide  area  of  want 
and  misery  is  year  by  year  extending  its 
borders. 

That  my  readers  may  appreciate  the 
fact  that  these  conditions  are  not  confined 
to  any  one  great  city  or  any  single  season, 
I  will  give  a  momentary  glimpse  of  scenes 
in  the  social  cellar  of  New  York,  as  por- 
trayed by  a  recent  writer  in  one  of  the 
leading  metropolitan  dailies.* 

The  reporter  thus  prefaced  his  narration: 

Such  biting  cold  and  such  pitiless  misery  and 
such  sullen,  hopeless,  shivering  poverty  has  not 
been  felt  in  the  byways  of  the  poor  in  a  score  of 
years.  For  every  joy  the  snow  and  ice  and 
clear,  cold  weather  bring  to  tlie  rich,  the  poor 
suffer  a  pang.  To  them  the  coals  in  the  foot- 
warmers  in  the  sleighs  in  the  park  would  mean  an 
unknown,  luxurious    warmth.     The   east   side    is 

*  New  York  World,  Jau.  18,  1893. 


76  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

suffering.  The  story  of  harclsliips  would  be  a 
story  like  that  of  the  famine  districts  of  Russia. 
The  people  suffer,  but  they  live. 

Here  is  an  extract  from  his  description 
of  life  in  the  tenement  region :  — 

Willett  street  is  not  an  inviting  thoroughfare, 
but  it  is  typical  of  east-side  tenement  streets.  It 
runs  from  Houston  to  Grand,  and  just  below 
the  former  street  was  the  tenement  to  which  Supt. 
Blake  had  referred.  It  was  not  originally  built 
as  a  tenement-house ;  that  was  evident.  It  had  the 
appearance  of  decayed  respectability  —  as  though 
it  had  been  the  mansion  of  some  old  merchant 
who  was  contemporary  with  the  first  John  Jacob 
Astor.  It  is  four  stories  high  —  or  low  —  as  tlie 
floors  are  not  more  than  eight  feet  apart.  The 
frontage  is  not  more  than  thirty  feet  and  the  depth 
not  more  than  sixty  feet.  And  still  eighty  fami- 
lies live  within  those  four  walls  !  Live  ?  No, 
exist. 

Push  open  the  grimy  door.  Faugh !  The  air 
is  fetid.  There  is  a  confused  murmur  of  voices, 
the  shrill  cries  of  children,  the  shouts  of  quarrelling 
women,  the  guttural  oaths  of  drunken  men,  the 
jargon  of  many  languages.  The  narrow  stairway 
is  crowded  with  children ;  some  clothed  and  some 
almost  naked. 

"  Does  Mrs.  Dougherty  live  here  ?  "  was  asked. 
The   children   became   quiet   and  stared   at.  the 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     77 

intruder.  ''I  guess  so;"  said  a  little  chap,  "most 
everybody  lives  here,  but  you  better  ask  up-stairs." 

There  was  a  dull  roar  of  voices  from  everywhere. 
No  one  answered  the  knock  on  the  first  door  the 
reporter  stumbled  against.  Opening  the  door,  he 
entered.  A  woman,  who  might  liave  been  thirty, 
but  who  looked  fifty  years  old,  sat  by  a  window 
sewing.  There  were  hard  lines  in  her  face,  and 
her  eyes  were  like  those  of  a  beaten  dumb  beast. 
She  showed  no  surprise  at  the  intrusion. 

The  floor,  that  had  no  covering  save  dirt,  was 
crowded  with  children.  One  toddler  was  entirely 
naked  and  the  others  were  almost  so.  The  furni- 
ture of  the  room  consisted  of  a  dilapidated  chair, 
which  was  occupied  by  the  wonuin,  a  wretched 
kitchen  stove,  in  which  there  was  no  fire,  and  a  pile 
of  blankets  and  rags  in  a  corner  that  constituted  the 
family  bed.  On  the  table  was  half  a  loaf  of  black 
bread  and  half  a  link  of  liver  sausage.  Back  of  the 
stove  was  a  small  pile  of  laths  and  fragments  of 
building  wood.  A  small  boy  was  trying  to  break 
up  the  latter  with  a  piece  of  iron. 

The  woman  said  her  name  was  Kehoe.  Her 
husband  had  left  her  a  year  ago.  He  had  also 
left  her  six  children.  Coal  ?  She  hadn't  seen  a 
lump  of  coal  since  last  fall.  All  the  fire  they  had 
was  from  wood  that  Jimmy  (the  boy  with  the 
piece  of  iron)  had  picked  up  in  the  street.  How 
did  she  live  ?  She  didn't  know ;  she  sewed  for 
a  '^sweater"  firm  on  Houston  street,     3ullen,  hope- 


78  CIVIL  IZA  TION '  S  INFERNO. 

less,  she  simply  waited  for  death  without  seeking 
it. 

In  the  next  room  was  a  Polish  woman  with  a 
numerous  brood  of  half-clad  children.  She  could 
not  speak  much  English.     She  was  also  sewing. 

These  two  rooms  Avere  typical  of  all  the  other 
holes  in  the  building. 

In  another  tenement  on  Attorney  street,  below 
Delancey,  there  are  several  cases  of  absolute  desti- 
tution. A  woman  by  the  name  of  Wilpoff,  who 
has  seven  fatherless  children,  has  been  confined 
to  her  bed  of  rags  on  the  floor  for  three  weeks,  and 
has  been  kept  from  starvation  through  the  mercy 
and  charity  of  her  almost  equally  poor  neighbors. 
The  room  was  as  cold  as  a  tomb  yesterday,  but 
she  smiled  and  said  her  neighbors  would  give  her 
a  fire  in  the  evening.  There  was  nothing  to  eat 
in  the  house. 

In  a  tenement  on  Pitt  street,  above  Delancey, 
are  a  score  of  semi-starving  families.  In  one  gar- 
ret-room is  an  old  man  who  has  been  caring  for 
his  dead  daughter's  three  children.  He  was  a 
street  fakir  until  Christmas,  when  the  rheum- 
atism got  into  his  legs,  and  now  he  is  helpless. 
As  in  the  other  cases,  his  neighbors,  quite  as  poor 
as  himself,  but  not  so  helpless,  are  caring  for  him. 

Tenements  that  were  visited  on  Stanton,  Delan- 
cey, Norfolk  and  several  other  streets,  all  had 
their  tales  of  woeful  suffering. 

Such   was   the   condition   of    thousands 


TWO  nOUES  IN  TUB  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     79 

of  poor  people  in  the  opulous  city  of  New 
York,  in  the  month  of  January,  1893,  and 
such  is  the  condition  each  winter  of  an 
ever-increasing  army  in  everj^  great  city  of 
America. 

Where  a  few  years  since  there  were  prob- 
ably a  few  hundred  lives  thus  languishing, 
starving  and  suffering,  now  there  are 
thousands;  and  unless  we  have  radical 
social  and  economic  changes  at  an  early 
day,  tlie  army  will  be  numbered  by  the 
tens  of  thousands  in  every  great  city. 
About  the  truth  of  this  statement,  there 
can  be  no  question,  because  our  present 
economic  conditions  drive  the  poor  into 
lower  depths  of  poverty  as  effectively  as 
Constantine's  cavalry  drove  Maxentius  and 
his  cohorts  into  the  Tiber.  Upon  the  pros- 
trate forms  of  the  poor,  the  privileged 
classes  are  rising  to  greater  opulence,  and 
are  being  enabled  to  indulge  in  the  grati- 
fication of  passion,  appetite  and  vanity  to 
a  greater  degree  of  prodigality  than  was 
ever  before  witnessed  in  a  government, 
which  retained  the  form  or  shell  of  a 
republic.     All  charitable  measures,  though 


80  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

humane  and  noble,  are  only  palliative,  only 
temporary.  They  relieve  in  a  measure  the 
pain  of  the  moment,  but  they  do  not  touch 
the  disease.  They  are  at  best  only  loaves 
of  bread  thrown  to  the  imprisoned  thous- 
ands, or  single  lines  by  which  one  in  a 
hundred  may  escape  from  confinement. 
They  do  not  throw  open  the  doors. 

The  statement  that  "  the  poor  are  grow- 
ing poorer,  and  the  rich  richer,"  has  been 
so  often  repeated  and  so  frequently  thought- 
lessly uttered,  that  it  carries  little  of  its 
really  terrible  significance  to  the  average 
mind,  while  many  dismiss  it  as  an  exagger- 
ated utterance  of  social  malcontents.  And 
yet  it  is  a  simple  statement  of  a  truth 
which  is  demonstrable.  Everything  in  our 
present  social  condition  favors  the  man  who 
has  an  abundance  of  money ;  everything 
works  ag!;ainst  the  man  who  has  little.  Let 
us  take,  for  examjDle,  life's  necessities  — 
those  things  which  all  must  purchase  to  a 
greater  or  less  extent.  And  to  be  still 
more  specific,  let  us  notice  a  single  item, 
fuel,  for  instance.  The  wealthy  and  those 
in    comfortable    circumstances,    are    able, 


TWO  HOURS  IX  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     81 

without  inconvenience,  to  lay  in  their  win- 
ter's supply  of  coal  in  summer,  when  it  is 
very  low.  Thus  each  householder  saves 
enough  money  by  this  single  transaction  to 
support  the  poor  man's  family  comfortably, 
for  several  weeks,  during  the  most  trying 
season  of  the  year.  These  benefits  thus 
derived  are  denied  the  very  poor.  They  can- 
not command  sufficient  money  to  purchase, 
even  if  they  had  a  storehouse  in  which  to 
place  the  supply.  Nevertheless,  their  con- 
dition would  be  less  pitiable  if,  when  win- 
ter came,  they  could  buy  coal  by  the  ton 
and  wood  by  the  cord.  But  this  again  is 
impossible,  at  least  so  far  as  thousands  in 
our  o:reat  cities  are  concerned,  owing;  to  the 
fact  that  their  meagre  earnings  for  one 
week  have  disappeared  before  their  next 
pay  day  arrives;  and,  moreover,  they  have 
no  room  to  store  a  ton  of  coal.  Thus  they 
are  compelled  to  purchase  by  the  basket- 
ful, which  in  effect  is  the  same  as  though 
they  suffered  a  double  robbery;  as  though 
they  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  two  bands 
of  brigands,  each  levying  a  tribute.  Do  not 
understand  me  as  charging  the  dealers  with 


82  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

either  robbery  or  brigandage.  I  merely 
wish  to  emphasize  the  important  fact  that 
to  the  poor  man  the  effect  is  exactly  the 
same  as  if  he  were  the  victim  of  individuals 
instead  of  social  conditions. 

Now,  in  order  to  bring  this  thought  still 
more  clearly  before  the  reader,  I  requested 
the  Rev.  Walter  J.  Swafheld,  whose  church 
is  in  the  heart  of  the  slums  of  the  North 
End,  to  ascertain  how  much  the  poor  people, 
who  are  forced  to  purchase  by  the  basket- 
ful, were  paying  for  their  coal.  He  informs 
me  that,  by  the  basket,  coal  is  selling  at 
twenty-five  cents,  there  being  thirty-four 
baskets  to  the  ton,  making  eight  dollars 
and  a  half  per  ton ;  while  he  is  buying  in 
twelve-ton  lots,  to  be  delivered  as  per  his 
order,  in  one-fourth  ton  lots,  at  five  dollars 
and  a  half  per  ton,  a  difference  of  three 
dollars  per  ton.  Thus  Mr.  Swaffield,  who, 
when  he  wrote,  had  just  paid  a  bill  of  sixty- 
six  dollars  for  twelve  tons,  saved  thirty-six 
dollars.  Had  he  bought  as  these  poor 
people  are  forced  to  do,  by  the  basketful,  he 
would  have  had  to  pay  one  hundred  and 
two    dollars.      Hence    we    find    the    very 


T]VO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     83 

people,  who  can  least  afford  to  pay  high 
prices,  compelled  to  pay  over  one-third 
more  than  the  rich.  On  every  five  thou- 
sand dollars'  worth  at  the  price  these  poor 
people  are  paying,  those  able  to  buy  by  the 
ton  would  save  over  one  thousand  six  hun- 
dred dollars;  while  those  who  buy  by  the 
wholesale  in  summer  save  much  more. 
Here,  then,  we  have  a  striking  illustration 
of  how  social  conditions  to-day  favor  the 
privileged  classes  and  crush  the  poor;  but 
this  is  only  one  of  many  illustrations  which 
might  be  cited. 

Our  present  laws  regulating  taxes  favor 
the  maintenance  of  miserable  old  buildings, 
for  we  fine  industry  and  discourage  improve- 
ments by  taxing  them.  Hence  the  land- 
lord, who  understands  well  that  if  he 
builds  a  clean,  wholesome,  airy  tenement, 
he  will  have  his  taxes  doubled  or  tripled 
for  his  pains,  allows  the  old  building,  with 
its  filth,  its  disease  germs,  its  death-dealing 
atmosphere,  to  remain,  knowi^ig  that  so 
long  as  it  stands,  taxes  will  be  low;  while 
the  necessity  of  the  very  poor  will  compel 
them  to  pay  rent,  which  will  enable  him  to 


84  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

realize  an  enormous  per  cent  on  his  invest- 
ment. Of  the  general  effect  of  this  system 
of  taxation  1  speak  at  length  below.  The 
Boston  Record  made  a  partial  investigation 
of  this  subject  some  time  since,  and  pub- 
lished figures  showing  that  the  landlords 
received  twelve,  fifteen,  and  in  many 
instances  a  higher  per  cent  on  their  invest- 
ments. Here,  again,  Ave  see  unjust  social 
conditions  favoring  the  rich  and  crushing 
the  poor.  The  reporter  found  that  the 
rental  per  year  for  one  of  these  tenements 
was  One  thousand  eight  hundred  aud  sev- 
enty-five dollars,  while  the  building  was 
assessed  for  onl}^  eight  thousand  dollars. 

Another  powerful  factor  working  to 
widen  the  breach  between  opulence  and 
poverty  is*  the  enormous  immigration 
which  is  monthly  brought  to  our  shores 
from  the  skims  of  tlie  Old  World. 

A  large  class  of  the  immigrants  which 
came  to  America  in  early  days  left  their 
native  lands  because  of  their  convictions. 
They  were  people  of  great  moral  worth 
and  intellectual  independence,  and  were 
therefore   a   distinct    gain    to    the    young 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     85 

republic.  They  were  allured  to  our  shores 
because  of  the  greater  liberty  and  freedom 
accorded  to  unconventional  and  heretical 
ideas.  America,  as  an  asylum  for  such  as 
they,  had  nothing  to  lose  and  everything 
to  gain;  and  the  tide  of  ignorance  and 
pauperism  which  came  in  with  this  class 
of  more  sterling  worth,  was  no  distinct 
menace,  for  many  reasons.  In  the  first 
place,  the  men  of  conviction  neutralized 
the  influence  of  a  class  who  had  no  hio-her 

o 

ambition  than  getting  along  comfortably. 
In  the  second  place,  we  had  no  populous 
cities,  thronged  by  masses  of  strugglers 
for  bread.  Land  was  plentiful  and  free. 
And,  again,  no  great  monopolies  controlled 
transportation  at  will ;  no  vast  associations 
of  gamblers  had  it  in  their  power  to  depress 
the  price  of  the  farmer's  products  for 
months,  or  until  he  had  been  compelled 
to  sell,  and  then  raise  the  price  until  his 
poor  compatriots  in  the  towns  and  cities 
paid  princely  tributes  to  those  who  toiled 
not.  At  that  time  trusts  and  combines 
did  not  control  mines  and  manufactories, 
nor  had  legislation   produced  a  Avell-nigh 


86  CIVILIZATION' Si  INFERNO. 

invincible  plutocracy  to  fatten  year  by  year, 
at  the  expense  of  the  poor,  on  the  special 
privileges  granted  by  class  legislation. 
Then  the  ideal  of  liberty  and  justice  was 
approximated  as  it  has  never  been  since, 
because  the  people  came  much  nearer  enjoy- 
ing equal  opportunities. 

Now  conditions  have  radically  changed. 
No  longer  do  we  even  approach  "  equality 
of  opportunity."  Indeed,  as  we  have  se^n, 
our  present  conditions  represent  the  extreme 
of  inequality.  Therefore,  however  wise  it 
might  be  to  continue  the  policy  of  opening 
our  gates  to  the  oppressed,  if  conditions 
were  more  just,  the  case  assumes  a  differ- 
ent aspect  under  j)resent  inequitable  social 
arrangements,  for  now  every  ship  laden 
with  immigrants  must  necessarily  feed  the 
fire  which  threatens  the  destruction  of  free 
government ;  every  incoming  army  from 
the  slums  of  Europe  places  the  bread-win- 
ners of  America  in  a  more  hopeless  condition, 
while  it  necessarily  and  distinctly  aids  the 
plutocratic  power  which  is  to-day  accumu- 
lating fortunes  so  colossal  as  to  amaze  the 
world,  and  rising  to  unequalled  opulence 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     87 


over  the  prostrate  forms  of  the  bread-win" 
ners,  and  at  the  expense  of  justice,  which 
alone  forms  a  stable  foundation  for  national 
life. 

Let  us  glance  at  these  facts  somewhat 
more  closely;  for  wliile,  to  my  mind,  if  the 
people  enjoyed  equal  opportunities,  there 
could  be  but  one  answer  to  the  immigration 
question,  viz. :  Let  the  gates  remain  open, 
nevertheless  we  are  now  forced  to  argue 
from  another  hypothesis.  What  would  be 
eminently  proper  in  the  presence  of  condi- 
tions resting  on  the  everlasting  granite  of 
justice,  may  be  unwise  and  vicious  when 
conditions  rest  upon  the  sands  of  avarice 
and  injustice. 

Now,  going  back  some  decades  in  our 
history  let  us  suppose  we  are  in  the  midst 
of  a  flourishing  little  city.  Here  are 
scores  of  widows  and  others  who  make  a 
decent  living  by  laboring  for  the  "  sweater." 
True,  strict  economy  is  required,  but  the 
mothers  find  it  possible  to  live  in  clean, 
though  modest  apartments,  and  send  their 
children  to  school.  At  length  a  ship 
arrives,  crowded  with  the  very  poorest  of 


CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 


European  lands.  These  people  are  thor- 
oughly ignorant,  and  know  nothing  of  the 
value  of  education.  They  have  been  used 
to  miserable,  dark,  filthy  dens,  and  the 
plainest  food.  The  "sweater"  hunts  them 
out,  for  here  is  an  opportunity  to  increase 
his  already  large  profits.  These  people  are 
glad  to  work  for  a  much  lower  sum.  Our 
own  poor  people  at  once  feel  the  effect  in 
reduced  prices  and  less  work.  Now  the 
children  have  to  wear  threadbare  clothes, 
and  the  mothers  no  longer  feel  that  their 
clothes  are  fit  to  wear  to  temples  where 
men  and  women  assemble  to  worship  the 
great  Galilean.  Besides,  if  their  children 
remain  at  school  and  have  enough  to  eat, 
the  parents  must  work  on  Sundays.  By 
and  by  other  shiploads  come,  bearing  fresh 
armies  of  the  very  poor,  who  have  been 
accustomed  to  sleeping  under  any  kind  of 
shelter,  and  even  without  shelter,  and  to 
whom  dirt,  filth,  and  indecent  surround- 
ings are  not  specially  objectionable.  They 
find  cheaper  quarters;  they  have  been  used 
to  half  starving;  they  care  nothing  for 
education,    and    have    numerous    children 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.      89 


whom  they  press  mto  the  labor  mill. 
Again  prices  fall  and  work  becomes  still 
scarcer.  The  poor  American  women  can 
no  longer  compete  with  the  foreign  cheap 
labor,  which  thrives  in  dirt,  and  fattens  in 
the  slums  of  the  city,  and  whose  children 
ply  the  needle  as  w^ell  as  the  mothers. 
The  Americans  must  sink  to  the  frightful 
social  environment  of  this  class  or  starve. 

The  American  widow  described  in  this 
chapter  is  a  fair  representative  of  this  class. 
Moreover,  with  this  physical  suffering  comes 
moral  decline,  and  lowering  of  average 
intelligence.  As  fresh  relays  arrive,  the 
condition  grows  more  desperate ;  all  chance 
for  proper  education  for  the  young  disap- 
pears ;  the  environment  is  morally  infected, 
inviting  vice  and  crime.  Furthermore, 
there  is  practically  no  hope  for  the  blossom- 
ing of  developed  manhood  and  womanhood 
in  the  generations  wdio  come  up  within  the 
borders  of  this  vast  social  cellar.  The  lit- 
tle ones  are  robbed  of  the  heritage  which 
should  fall  to  every  child  of  this  opulent 
republic. 

If  we  go  to  our  great  mines,  we  find  in 


90  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

many  instances  a  substantial  repetition  of 
these  experiences;  the  intelligent  Ameri- 
can and  foreign-born  citizens  are  crowded 
out  by  those  who  have  never  known  any- 
thing but  ignorance  and  the  most  pitiable 
industrial  slavery.  The  same  influences 
are  being  felt  in  the  manufacturing  world, 
and,  in  short,  in  almost  all  departments  of 
manual  labor.  Every  shipload  of  immi- 
grants which  arrives  under  the  present 
social  condition,  necessarily  increases  the 
misery  of  tiie  struggling  millions,  render- 
ing their  lot  still  more  hopeless.  Thus, 
here  we  find  another  important  factor 
favoring  the  wealthy  and  forcing  the  needy 
into  more  hopeless  depths  of  serfdom. 

Immigration,  however,  it  should  be  clearly 
understood,  is  7iot  a  jjrime  cause  or  elemen- 
tary factor  in  the  discreditable  social  con- 
dition of  the  present  day;  neither  would 
it  be  a  grave  menace  to  our  institutions,  if 
law  rested  upon  justice,  and  sanctioned 
only  those  things  which  were  for  the  good 
of  the  whole  people.  At  the  present  time, 
however,  we  find  the  condition  aptly 
described  by  Shakespeare,  when  he  observes: 


TWO  HOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.      91 

That  ill  the  corrupted  current  of  tliis  world 
Offence's  gilded  hand  oft  shoves  by  justice, 
And  oft  it's  seen  the  wicked  prize  itself 
Buys  off  the  law. 

This  is  strikingly  illustrated  in  the  in- 
fluence exerted  by  various  gigantic  monop- 
olies, trusts  and  combines,  which  through 
sjjecial  2:)rivilegcs  and  class  legislation  have 
become  anacondas,  threatening  the  very  life 
of  free  institutions  by  persistently  baffling 
the  wishes  of  the  people  in  the  caucuses,  in 
the  legislatures,  or  through  their  influence 
at  the  national  Capitol.  One  significant 
illustration  emphasizes  this  thought.  The 
anti-option  bill,  calculated  to  check  the 
most  iniquitous  species  of  gambling  of  the 
present  day,  was  up  in  Congress  the  second 
w^eek  in  February,  1892.  The  fair  prospect 
for  its  passing  afforded  an  opportunity  for 
the  bears  of  Chicago  to  depress  the  market, 
exactly  as  information  that  the  gamblers 
had  baffled  the  people  would  have  enabled 
the  bulls  to  inflate  stocks.  What  was  the 
result?  I  quote  from  a  despatch  published 
in  the  great  Eastern  dailies  of  February 
10th: 


92  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

The  banks  hurried  a  memorial  to  be  sent  to 
Congress  protesting  against  the  bilh  Besides  the 
protest  sent  by  eighteen  of  the  city  banks,  the 
Board  of  Directors  appointed  an  additional  com- 
mittee to  go  to  Washington  and  make  pLain  the 
dangers. 

Wheat  do  we  find  here  ?  The  aristocracy 
of  the  bankers,  which  has  grown  to  formid- 
able power  through  special  privileges,  rush- 
ing to  the  aid  of  the  aristocracy  of  gam- 
blers, and  seeking,  by  the  most  dangerous 
methods,  to  destroy  legislation  interested 
in  the  morality  and  the  welfare  of  the  whole 
people.  This  is  significant,  but  is  by  no 
means  an  exceptional  instance  of  monopo- 
lies and  aristocracies,  which  are  the  legiti- 
mate outgrowth  of  special  privileges, 
seeking  to  circumvent  all  measures  directed 
in  the  interests  of  the  people,  or  those 
which  are  even  suspected  of  being  aimed  at 
checking  the  march  of  monopoly  toward 
absolute  power.  Hence  against  all  sjjecial 
privileges,  the  legislation  of  the  future 
should  be  directed.  Abolish  class  legisla- 
tion, and  we  have  wrested  from  the  hand 
of  plutocracy  one  of  the  great  chains  witli 


TWO  UOURS  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.     93 

which    it    hcas    manacled     the     industrial 
masses. 

Another  evil,  which  has  contributed  far 
more  to  tlie  present  distressing  social  con- 
ditions, than  most  people   imagine,  arises 
from  sjjeculatmn  in  land.     To  me   it  seems 
clear  that  the  assumption  that  individuals 
have    a   right  to  hold  idle  vast  tracts  of 
land  from  year  to  year,  without  giving  to 
society  adequate  value  in  return  for  what 
society  gives  tliem  in  enhanced  valuation, 
is  manifestly  unjust.     Or  to  put  the  matter 
in  another  way,  it  is  difficult  to  understand 
why  an  individual   should   be   entitled  to 
wealth  in  no    way   produced   by   himself; 
wealth  which  has  been  created  by  society, 
in  enhancing  the  value  of  nature's  benefi- 
cent gift  to  humanity,  the   land;   wealth 
which  is    created   often  in  despite  of  the 
individual,   by    the    comnumity,    and    yet 
from   wdiich  the   producer   of   the    wealth 
receives  no  adequate  return,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  vacant  lots  which  disfigure  the  sub- 
urbs of  every  city,  lying  idle  for  decades, 
and  sometimes  generations,  that  the  holder 
may  reap  princely  returns,  after  society  has 


94  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEENO. 

made  the  land  valuable.  Here,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  something  fundamentally  unjust; 
and  in  its  operation  we  see  deplorable 
results,  which  sooner  or  later  bloom  on  the 
stem  of  injustice. 

Vast  tracts  of .  land  which  should  blos- 
som with  little  homes  are,  through  the 
greed  of  rich  syndicates  and  individuals, 
held  idle ;  the  poor  are  forced  to  be  tenants 
in  apartments,  instead  of  householders  ;  the 
money  they  would  3'early  be  able  to  expend 
on  their  homes  is  swallowed  up  in  rents ; 
they  grow  old  without  enjoying  any  of  the 
benefits  accruing  from  enhanced  values, 
because  ononojwiy  in  land,  encouraged  by  our 
present  system  of  taxationj  has  closed  the 
door  of  opportunity  against  them.  What  is 
true  of  idle  land  which  walls  in  the  poor  of 
our  cities,  in  order  that  land  speculators 
may  grow  rich,  is  equally  true  of  land  in 
the  country,  where  may  be  found  vast  tracts 
held  in  the  same  way,  often  by  alien  land- 
lords. This  again  prevents  millions  of  hon- 
est, hard-working  men  from  obtaining 
homes,  in  order  that  a  few  hundred  individ- 
uals may  grow  immensely  rich,  not  through 


TWO  nOUES  IN  THE  SOCIAL  CELLAR.      95 

any  labor  of  their  own,  but  through  the 
enhancmg  of  vahies  created  solely  by  soci- 
ety. This  wrong  will  continue  to  grow 
more  and  more  offensive  until  wise  methods 
of  taxation  make  speculation  in  lands 
unprofitable. 

Again,  it  will  doubtless  be  necessary  for 
the  government  to  abolish  monoply  in 
transportation,  or  bring  forward  such  meas- 
ure, as  shall  prevent  the  nation's  great 
highways  from  becoming  a  veritable  mint 
for  the  most  despicable  class  of  usurers,  by 
whose  extortion  the  producer  is  deprived 
of  fair  profit,  on  the  one  side,  while  the  con- 
sumer is  compelled  to  pay  more  than  a  fair 
price  on  the  other;  that  the  manipulators 
of  stocks  and  owners  of  the  bonds  of  these 
great  arteries  of  trade  may  live  in  princely 
palaces  without  labor.  Aholish  sjjecial 
privileges,  monopoly  in  transjjortation  and 
speculation  in  land,  and  plutocracy  will  be 
shorn  of  its  Samsonian  locks.  Of  course, 
there  are  other  reforms  needed,  but  these 
seem  to  me  basic  and  of  prime  importance;  / 
and  in  compassing  these,  greater  liberty 
and     more     healthful     freedom     will     be 


96  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

enjoyed  by  the  people,  while  justice 
to  all  will  be  approached  as  never  before. 
Many  less  fundamental  reforms  will  come 
first,  owing  to  tlie  urgency  of  popular  need, 
which  demands  temporary  relief  afforded 
by  palliative  measures,  and  also  because 
before  great  fundamental  measures,  which 
rest  on  justice  and  are  calculated  to  sup- 
plant age-long  wrongs,  can  be  brought 
about,  it  will  be  necessary  to  educate  the 
masses  to  think  broadly  and  independently. 
Meanwhile,  let  us  not  forget  the  millions 
who  are  now  stifling,  starving,  and  dying 
as  the  legitimate  results  of  the  injustice  of 
our  present  social  conditions.  Let  us  give 
and  give  liberally,  while,  with  eyes  riveted 
upon  justice,  and  with  the  good  of  all  the 
people  ever  in  view,  we  labor  unceasingly 
for  such  radical  reforms  as  will  relieve  our 
Christian  civilization  of  the  burning  stigma 
of  shame  arising  from  upholding  conditions 
so  essentially  unjust  that  they  are  directly 
responsible  for  a  large  per  cent  of  the  pov- 
erty, ignorance  and  crime  present  in  the 
republic  to-day. 


DEMOCRACY  of  DARKNESS 


07 


Our  Fathers  are  praying  for  Pauper-pay, 
Our  Mothers  with  Death's  kiss  are  wliite  ; 

Our  Sous  are  the  rich  man's  Slaves  hy  day, 
And  Our  Daughters  liis  Slaves  by  niglit. 

Gerald  Massey. 


98 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  99 


in. 

DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS. 

The  darkest  zone  in  social  life  —  Pseudo  pleasures  of  the  under- 
world —  Bestial  gratifications  Avhich  end  in  death  — 
Typical  cases — Crime  in  our  great  cities — Some  figures 
from  recent  statistics  — A  modern  Fagan  — Trafficking 
in  virtue  —  A  typical  case. 

THERE  is  to-day  in  all  populous  centres 
of  civilization  a  world  of  misery, 
where  uninvited  poverty  abounds:  a  com- 
monwealth of  victims  whose  wretchedness 
fills  the  heart  with  mingled  sorrow  and 
indignation.  No  more  pathetic  scene  can 
be  imagined  than  the  daily  battle  waged 
by  this  bp.ttalion  in  retreat,  which  yet  strug- 
gles for  a  foothold  on  the  granite  of  hon- 
esty and  virtue.  There  is,  however, 
another  spectacle  still  more  soul-sickening, 
because  of  its  added  blackness.  Below  the 
social  cellar,  where  uninvited  poverty  holds 
sway,  is  a  darker  zone  :  a  subterranean,  ray 


100  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

less  vault  —  the  commonwealth  of  the 
double  night.  In  the  upper  stratum  we 
find  gloom ;  here  perpetual  darkness. 
Above,  the  closing  door  of  opportunity  to 
live,  the  frightful  pangs  of  hunger  and 
the  ever-present  dread  of  sickness  shut  out 
the  sunshine  of  external  enjoyments;  still, 
so  long  as  virtue  and  integrity  remain,  the 
inner  temple  is  illuminated.  In  the  sub- 
cellar,  however,  even  the  soul's  torch  goes 
out;  hence  there  is  twofold  darkness.  So 
long  as  the  fires  burn  on  the  altar  of  moral- 
ity, the  soul  knows  an  exalted  pleasure, 
even  in  the  bitterest  want;  for  the  mystic 
power  of  the  Divine,  impearled  in  every 
mind,  holds  supremacy,  and  the  spirit  stands 
erect.  When,  however,  this  light  disap- 
pears, the  soul  grovels  in  the  mire,  and  the 
incentive  to  walk  is  less  strong  than  that 
to  crawl  and  wallow  in  animal ity.  In  this 
under-world  vice  and  crime  mingle  with 
poverty;  bestial  passion  is  the  goddess  of 
its  denizens;  here  the  acme  of  pleasure  is 
reached  in  sensual  gratification;  here  men 
do  not  look  you  in  the  eye,  the  glance,  even, 
is  furtive   when  not  defiant,      litis  is   the 


y 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  101 

real  inferno.  No  need  to  wander  into  other 
worlds  for  hells  of  God's  creatmg.  Man 
has  made  an  under-world,  before  which  the 
most  daring  imagination  of  poet  or  seer 
staggers.  Over  its  portals  might  well  be 
blazoned  the  soul-freezing  inscription  which 
Dante  beheld  as  he  entered  the  under-world. 

If  its  inhabitants  came  hither  voluntar- 
ily, their  conditions  might  merit  less  con- 
cern, even  though  they  would  in  no  less 
degree  be  a  menace  to  society.  But  the 
truth  is,  the  large  proportion  are  driven 
hither  by  relentless  influences,  over  which 
they  have  no  control;  such,  for  example,  as 
the  cupidity  and  avarice  of  powerful  indiv- 
iduals, the  selfishness  of  a  short-sighted  and 
indifferent  civilization,  reinforced  by  the 
intangible  but  potent  iiilluence  of  heredity 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  still  more  iresis- 
tible  power  of  environment  on  the  other. 

And  in  this  subterranean  world,  as  in 
the  world  of  hope,  we  find  men,  women 
and  children  l)lying  their  trades  and  eking 
out  an  existence  as  fate  or  inclination  dic- 
tates. Here,  however,  schools,  universities 
and  libraries  contribute  little  to  the  satis- 


102  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEBNO. 

faction  of  man's  appetites  and  aspirations; 
but  in  their  stead  we  find  the  omnipresent 
saloon,  catering  to  all  that  is  worst  in  frail 
humanity. 

Yet  it  must  not  be  understood  that  all 
pleasure  is  exiled;  a  certain  kind  of  enjoy- 
ment remains.  It  is  a  counterfeit  coin, 
which,  however,  in  the  absence  of  that 
which  is  real,  passes  current.  It  possesses 
none  of  the  pure  essence  which  endures 
and  is  refining  and  elevating.  Moreover, 
the  pleasures  known  here  consume  the  life 
of  their  votaries,  and  are  mingled  with  bit- 
terness which  increases  with  each  hour  of 
indulgence.  They  end  also  in  death,  pre- 
faced by  an  existence  loathsome  to  even 
the  depraved  souls  who  reap  their  certain 
fruitage. 

Would  you  glance  at  the  pseudo-pleas- 
ures current  in  this  lower  zone  of  life? 
Come  with  us  as  we  skirt  this  realm,  and 
see  what  it  has  to  offer  to  those  who  have 
recently  crossed  its  threshold.  We  are  in 
Boston,  within  rifle-shot  of  the  gilded  dome 
of  the  State  House  and  the  palaces  of  Bea- 
con  Hill,   and    vet   we    a,re    entering   this 


BEMOCRA CY  OF  DA  EKNESS.  103 

under-world.  It  is  Monday  night.  At 
the  station-house  we  are  politely  received 
by  the  officer  in  charge,  who  observes  that 
we  have  chosen  the  worst  night  in  the 
week.  Saturday  and  Sunday  he  explains, 
are  always  a  kind  of  Saturnalia  for  num- 
bers of  people  in  this  part  of  the  city;  but 
Monday  night  there  is  little  to  be  seen; 
These  people  are  "resting"  or  "broke." 
While  he  is  speaking,  a  drunken  man  is 
brought  in  —  a  searcher  for  pleasure  and 
gratification,  who  losing  reason,  has  been 
overtaken  by  the  law.  "  Do  you  make 
many  arrests  daily?"  w^e  asked.  "Oh,  yes, 
here  is  the  record :  For  Saturday,  fifty-six 
cases,  yesterday  thirty-five,  mostly  drunk- 
enness. Ah,  here  is  the  officer  who  will 
go  with  you."  We  set  off,  threading  our 
way  through  a  commonwealth  of  poverty 
and  vice.  Here  are  thousands  of  people 
herding  in  crowded  quarters  where  dwelt, 
a  few  decades  ago,  the  very  elite  of  the 
"Hub." 

We  have  now  reached  a  nest  of  old  build- 
ings with  an  unsavory  record.  Here  we 
find  negroes  and  whites  mingling  together. 


104  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

The  creaking  stairways  are  worn  and  car- 
peted with  filth;  the  walls  and  ceilings 
blistered  with  the  foul  accretions  of  months 
and  perhaps  years.  It  is  a  noisy  spot; 
snatches  of  low  songs,  oaths,  coarse  jests, 
and  the  savage  voices  of  poor  wretches 
whose  brains  are  inflamed  and  tongues 
made  thick  with  rum,  meet  our  ears  on 
every  side.  The  air  is  heavy  with  odors  of 
spoiled  fish,  decayed  vegetables,  smoke 
from  old  pipes,  and  stale  beer.  From  one 
room  loud  and  angry  voices  proceed,  a  note 
of  fear  mingled  with  a  threatening  tone; 
the  room  seems  perfectly  dark.  With  a 
quick  movement  the  officer  lifts  the  smok- 
ing lamp  from  a  stool  in  the  hall,  and 
opens  the  door.  The  scene  is  sickening  in 
the  extreme,  one  of  the  most  disgusting 
spectacles  in  the  under-world,  none  the 
less  terrible  because  it  is  common.  A 
filthy  den,  occupied  by  a  young  girl  whose 
career  has  not  yet  brought  upon  her  unmis- 
takable signs  of  debauchery,  save  in  a  cer- 
tain expression  of  the  eyes  and  a  brazen 
smile,  which  speak  volumes  against  the 
probability  of  restoration.     She  is  probably 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  105 

a  Creole.  A  wealth  of  black  hair  falls  in 
great  waves  over  her  head ;  she  has  a  deep 
olive  complexion ;  neither  her  hair  nor  her 
features  indicate  negro  blood ;  a  large  head, 
arching  brow,  and  eyes  which  once  must 
have  been  extremely  beautiful,  for  even 
yet,  though  slightly  dimmed  by  dissipation, 
they  are  very  expressive.  On  her  counte- 
nance one  detects  something  inexpressibly 
sad;  the  sunshine  of  girlishness  blending 
with  the  shadow  of  vice.  A  few  years 
before  she  must  have  been  a  remarkably 
beautiful  child,  richly  endowed  by  nature 
with  those  physical  charms  so  dear  to 
womankind,  and  which  to-day  are  a  for- 
tune to  a  maiden  in  easy  circumstances. 
This  girl,  surrounded  in  early  life  by  healthy 
influences,  schooled  in  virtue  and  given 
a  fair  chance  would  probably  have  graced 
society  and  added  to  the  dignity  of  woman- 
hood. But  the  accident  of  an  unkind  fate 
willed  otherwise,  and  now  we  find  hor  in  a 
filthy  den,  the  air  of  which  is  heavy  with 
fumes  of  liquor  and  other  nauseous  odors  — 
her  companion  a  low-browed,  thick-necked  y^ 
negro.     Heartsick  w^e  turn  from  this  spec- 


106  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

tacle,  too  common  to  the  officer  to  even 
call  to  his  face  a  momentary  shadow  of 
disgust.  In  this  child  of  a  dark  fate  we 
see  a  type  of  thousands  of  poor  girls 
who  seem  doomed  to  wed  despair.  They 
may  have  entered  life  in  the  social  cellar, 
where  they  have  never  seen,  with  any- 
thing like  clear-cut  vision,  the  line  of 
demarkation  hetween  right  and  wrong. 
They  may  have  drifted  to  the  city  for 
the  purpose  of  making  an  honest  living, 
but  have  been  driven  into  vice  and  crime, 
in  order  that  soulless  greed  might  flourish 
and  they  still  live.  Or  they  may  belong  to 
the  commonwealth  of  betrayed  maidens, 
who,  being  betrayed,  have  found  all 
society's  doors  barred  against  them,  lest, 
perchance,  they  contaminate  innocence, 
brush  too  closely  against  undiscovered  sin, 
or  annoy  the  lepers  who  have  accomplished 
their  ruin,  and  who  still  move  unabashed 
in  the  upper  world.  In  any  case,  to  them 
birth  was  a  calamity,  life  a  bitter  curse, 
death  their  sweetest  heritage. 

We  leave  this  rookery,  having  caught  a 
glimpse  of  life's  sad  quest  for  pleasure  in 


DEMOCEACY  OF  DARKNESS.  107 

the  modern  inferno,  and  traverse  a  street 
with  brilliantly  lighted  saloons.  The  coun- 
ters are  thronged  with  scores  of  men,  seek- 
ing pleasure  by  imbibing  beer.  At  the 
corner  of  the  street  a  striking  picture  is 
presented.  In  the  front  window  of  a  large 
saloon  sits  a  company  of  young  men  and 
girls,  laughing  hilariously  over  their  liquor. 
The  men  are  boyish  in  appearance.  One 
of  the  three  women  present  is  not  a  novice. 
Her  face  is  typical,  and  carries  a  significant 
history;  brazen  eyes,  steeled  and  slightly 
dimmed;  countenance  stamped  with  the 
unmistakable  history  of  reckless  indulgence, 
doomed  to  grow  more  terrible  as  she  is 
pushed,  with  ever  accelerating  speed,  toward 
her  frightful  end.  The  features  of  the 
other  girls  show  small  traces  of  dissipation. 
They  are  well  dressed ;  a  rosy  flush  suffuses 
their  brows,  born  of  excitement  rather  than 
rouge;  their  voices  also  possess  a  silvery 
ring.  They  seem  happy,  as,  with  rapid 
words,  jests  pass  from  lip  to  lip  over  the 
clinking  glasses. 

Behind    this    partitioned    compartment, 
the  bar,  thronged  with  men,  is  the  scene  of 


108  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

that  coarse  merriment  which  is  ever  found 
in  saloons  in  low  parts  of  great  cities.  We 
turn  the  corner,  and,  passing  the  rear 
of  the  same  establishment,  catch  another 
kaleidoscopic  view  of  the  pleasures  of  this 
dismal  life.  Here,  in  a  rudely  partitioned 
box,  which  partly  shuts  it  from  the  bar, 
but  which  opens  on  the  street,  are  a  half- 
dozen  withered  women,  some  aged  before 
their  time  ;  others,  though  still  young,  hag- 
gard and  corpse-like ;  their  faces,  like  their 
ragged  gowns,  are  faded,  their  voices  harsh 
and  rasping,  their  laugh  barren  of  all  merri- 
ment and  carrying  notes  of  defiance  and 
despair.  In  the  front  of  this  saloon  is 
laughing  girlhood;  in  the  rear  besotted 
womanhood.  The  difference  is  that  these 
poor  creatures  have  pursued  the  icjnis-fatuus 
a  little  longer  than  their  younger  neighbors 
— they  are  several  rungs  lower  in  the 
ladder  —  that  is  all.  As  we  momentarily 
pause  before  this  pathetic  picture,  one  poor 
woman  whose  dull  eyes  are  sunken  far  into 
their  sockets,  and  whose  face  is  of  an  ashen 
hue,  rises,  and,  extending  her  long  bony 
finger,  beckons  to  our  company.     The  grin 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  109 

on  her  face,  which  in  chiklhood  was  doubt- 
less ca  smile,  is  so  ghastly  that  w^e  are 
thrilled  with  horror.  Ah !  poor  Ishmaelites 
of  our  nineteenth-century  civilization,  ter- 
rible is  your  fate!* 

Of  another  pastime  we  catch  a  glimpse 
in  passing  a  basement  poolroom.  Here  is 
a  certain  fascinating  excitement  which 
games  of  chance  ever  possess  for  the  human 
mind;  but  here  also  we  find  the  atmosphere 
which  seems  everywhere  present  in  the  sub- 
terranean world;  fumes  of  liquor  and 
tobacco  are  as  omnipresent  as  coarse  pro- 
fanity and  still  more  repulsive  jests. 

This  scene  suo-o-ests  another  I  witnessed 

Co 

some  time  ago  in  going  through  a  wretched 
rookery  in  the  North  End  of  Boston.  We 
were  in  search  of  a  poor  sick  woman,  said 
to  be  in  a  starving  condition.  Passing  one 
room  and  hearing  loud  voices,  my  friend, 
who  spends  his  life  in  relieving  the  suffer- 
ing of  the  poor,  quickly  opened  the  door. 
Around  a  rude  table  were  seated  four  men 
playing    cards;  the    revolver   by   one  and 

*In  Chicago,  in  1890,  more  than  thirty  girls  and  women 
attempted  suicide  in  tlie  station-houses  of  tliat  city. 


110  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

whiskey  flask  by  another  were  as  symbolic 
of  the  lives  of  these  young  men  as  their 
hardened,  depraved  countenances  and  red 
eyes.  There  was  a  certain  ferocity  in  the 
expression  of  their  faces.  In  one  corner  of 
the  room  I  noticed  a  man  hastily  throwing 
some  things  he  had  been  handling  into  an 
old  box.  The  moment  the  door  opened,  all 
the  gamblers  sprang  to  their  feet,  defiant 
and  yet  uneasy.  Their  furtive  glances 
wandered  from  us  to  the  box.  My  impres- 
sion was  that  they  were  whiling  away  the 
day  gaming  for  the  booty  or  spoils  of  the 

previous  night.    "  Does  Mrs. live  in  this 

building?"  inquired  my  friend.  "We  don't 
know,"  grumbled  two  or  three  voices,  as  Ave 
closed  the  door. 

Such  are  the  pleasures  of  this  under- 
world—  as  false  as  they  are  short-lived; 
utterly  spurious ;  all  counterfeit  coins ;  bear- 
ing small  resemblance  to  true  enjoyment, 
whose  influence  is  ever  refining  and  uplift- 
ing. Pure  pleasure  is  a  sun  which  warms 
into  life  all  that  is  noblest  in  nature,  calling 
out  that  Avhich  is  sweetest  and  richest, 
developing  the  flower  and   fruitage    of   a 


DEMO  CBA  CY  OF  DA  RKNESS.  1 1 1 

noble  character;  while  the  pleasure  of 
which  our  nineteenth-century  inferno  boasts, 
bears  precisely  the  relation  to  its  victim 
that  the  candle  does  to  the  moth:  it  daz- 
zles with  its  light ;  it  warms  with  its  heat ; 
it  fascinates  with  its  radiance,  but  it 
destroys ! 

Let  us  now  examine  some  facts  relatinorto 
this  commonwealth  of  darkness,  where  vice 
and  crime  mingle  with  misery  and  want. 
It  is  with  the  great  cities  that  we  are  chiefly 
concerned  in  the  present  discussion,  although 
the  baleful  influence  has  already  extended 
to  the  smaller  cities  and  towns ;  for  a  nation 
takes  the  tone  of  life  largely  from  her  met- 
ropolitan centres.  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott  has 
well  observed  that  -'the  whole  country  is 
affected,  if  indeed  its  character  and  history 
are  not  determined,  by  the  condition  of  its 
great  cities." 

In  the  outcropping  of  the  lower  world  in 
our  courts,  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  one  aspect 
of  this  problem,  although  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  the  records  of  our  criminal 
courts  represent  a  small  proportion  of  the 
crime  committed.     Thus,  for  example,  the 


112  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

prison  returns  for  Great  Britain  for  1889 
showed  that  there  were  fourteen  thousand, 
seven  hundred  and  forty-seven  known 
thieves  at  Large,  to  say  nothing  of  seventeen 
thousand  and  forty-two  suspected  persons. 
With  this  thought  in  mind,  let  us  take  up 
the  records  of  New  York  City.  In  1889, 
we  find  there  were  eighty-two  thousand,  two 
hundred  arrests;  in  1890,  eighty-four  thous- 
and, five  hundred  and  fifty-six  arrests.  Of 
the  number  of  persons  apprehended  in  1889, 
over  five  thousand  were  taken  on  the  cliarge 
of  theft  or  robbery,  and  more  than  five 
thousand  for  assault  and  battery.  Another 
fact  in  this  connection  worthy  of  thought, 
is  the  enormous  expense  required  to  keep 
in  partial  check  this  commonwealth  of  dark- 
ness. The  police  department  of  New  York 
costs  yearly  four  million,  eight  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  * 

And  what  is  true  of  the  criminal  records 
of  New  York,  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  true 
of  the  smaller  cities.  Take,  for  example, 
Detroit,  Mich.  In  1890  we  find  there  were 
eight  thousand,  six  hundred   and   ninety- 

*  "  Darkoess  and  Daylight  iu  New  York,"  p.  499. 


BEMOCEACY  OF  BABKNEFiS.  113 

three  persons  arrested,  of  which  over  nine 
hundred  cases  were  for  murder,  rape, 
assault  and  battery,  burglary,  larceny  or 
robbery.  In  speaking  of  these  returns. 
Commissioner  Rolnnson  observes :  * 

'^The  whole  number  of  arrests  for  the 
six  years  (1885-90)  was  fifty-one  thousand, 
eight  hundred  and  seventy-six,  a  yearly 
averao-e  of  eig;ht  thousand  and  six  hundred 
and  forty-six.  According  to  population, 
there  was  one  arrest  for  every  twenty-three 
persons ;  but  as  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
three  persons  were  recidivists  and  figure  in 
two  thousand,  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  arrests,  it  appears  that  one  person  in 
every  thirty-one  was  a  prisoner  for  some 
cause  or  other  in  1890."  If  we  take  the 
still  smaller  town  of  Saginaw,  Mich.,  we 
find  in  1891  there  were  two  thousand  six 
hundred  and  twenty-four  arrests,  in  writ- 
ing of  which  Commissioner  Robinson 
observes:  ''The  number  of  arrests  in  the 
city  of  Saginaw  for  1891  was  two  thousand, 
six    hundred    and    twenty-four,    a    slight 

*  Ninth  Annual  Eeport  oi  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics  of 
>Iichigan,  p.  401. 


114  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

increase  over  former  years.  No  allowance 
being  made  for  reconvictions,  one  person 
in  every  17.6  of  population  was  a  prisoner 
in  the  year  ending  March  22,  1891. 

These  facts  merely  hint  at  the  nature 
and  extent  of  the  waste  of  wealth  in  our 
cities,  caused  chiefly  by  the  subterranean 
vaults  of  social  life.  The  financial  aspect, 
however,  is  of  small  importance  compared 
with  the  ethical  significance.  Whatever 
adds  to  the  sum  of  human  misery,  increases 
the  volume  of  crime,  lowers  the  standard 
of  morality,  entails  physical  weakness, 
mental  imbecility,  or  moral  degradation, 
rises  above  all  financial  considerations,  and 
is  of  supreme  importance. 

In  descending  into  the  under-world,  we 
find  no  monotony  or  sameness  in  life. 
There  are  many  gradations  in  crime  and 
vice.  Here  we  see  the  murderer,  the  thief, 
and  the  burglar;  the  gambler,  the  cour- 
tesan, and  the  confidence  man;  the  bully, 
the  sneak  thief,  and  the  common  drunk- 
ard, who,  like  a  maniac,  is  always  a 
possible  murderer.  Here,  also,  we  find 
pedagogues  in  crime,  as  well  as,  what  is 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  H^ 

still  more  soul-sickening,  traffickers  in  vice. 
Some  striking  illustrations  of  these  phases 
are  necessary,  in  order  to  impress  terrible 
facts  vaguely  believed  but  not  realized  by 
the  great  majority  of  our  thoughtful 
people ;  for  a  typical  case  pictures  in  min- 
iature a  particular  class  or  condition  more 
impressively  than  any  amount  of  general- 
izing. Doubtless  few  people  realize  that 
there  are  Fagans  in  real  life  to-day  no  less 
terrible  than  Dickens  graphically  pictures 
in  his  fiction;  and  we  need  not  go  to  Lon- 
don or  Paris  to  find  them ;  they  are  flour- 
ishing at  our  own  door. 

A  most  striking  illustration  of  this 
character  was  given  to  the  public  in  the 
well-known  case  of  David  Smith,  which 
was  widely  discussed  at  the  time  of  his 
apprehension  and  conviction,  almost  three 
years  since.  The  story,  briefly  stated, 
is  as  follows:  Edward  Mulhearn,  a  youth 
of  fourteen  years,  who  lived  in  a  neighbor- 
ing town  and  was  rather  wild,  ran  away 
from  home  to  seek  his  fortune  in  New 
York  City.  After  he  had  exhausted  his 
resources,  and  while  debating  in  his  mind 


11 G  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

the  advisability  of  returning  home,  and  his 
probable  reception  from  a  somewhat  stern 
father,  he  was  accosted  by  David  Smith, 
who  cordially  invited  him  to  his  boarding- 
house.  Delighted  at  the  prospect  of 
supper  and  bed,  the  boy  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, was  taken  to  one  of  the  worst 
lodging-houses  in  the  city,  introduced  to 
Smith's  friends,  and  by  his  newly  found 
protector  flattered  and  cajoled.  ''1  will 
make  a  man  of  you  in  less  than  a  week," 
exclaimed  Smith.  The  next  week  was  one 
of  license;  the  modern  Fagan  determined 
to  "show  his  little  friend  the  city,"  with 
all  the  terrible  significance  of  that  expres- 
sion when  uttered  by  one  hardened  by 
years  of  vice  and  crime,  and  who  is  deter- 
mined to  thoroughly  compromise  his  vic- 
tim, while  firing  all  that  is  worst  in  his 
nature.  Next,  Edward  was  shown  how 
carelessly  the  women  carried  their  purses; 
how  often  they  were  merely  slipped  in  the 
outside  })ocket  of  their  wrap.  Edward  was 
assured  that  it  was  an  easy  thing  to  take 
them.  lie  was  induced  to  make  the 
attempt.     He    succeeded    and    was   a   few 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKKESS.  117 

dollars  the  richer.  The  boy  was  compli- 
mented by  Smith  and  lionized  in  the  den 
where  the  easily  acquired  wealth  was 
squandered.  His  self-appointed  guardian 
being  a  positive  nature,  soon  psychologized 
the  youth.  The  friend  and  protector  now 
became  the  iron-hearted  master,  and  the 
boy  a  servile  slave.  He  was  next  taken  or 
sent  on  several  thieving  raids.  When,  how- 
ever, Smith  was  not  present  to  direct  him, 
he  rarely  returned  with  any  booty.  This 
was  naturally  very  unsatisfactory  to  his 
master,  who  saw  little  revenue  to  be  gained 
from  a  poor  thief.  His  fertile  brain,  how- 
ever, soon  hit  upon  another  expedient. 
One  morning  when  Edward  returned  pen- 
niless, our  modern  Fagan  deliberately 
locked  the  door;  the  boy  was  tlien  bound 
securely,  after  which  his  arms  were  horri- 
bly burned  with  heated  irons  pressed  deeply 
into  the  flesh.  Tlie  frantic  shrieks  and 
pitiful  entreaties  of  the  poor  lad  produced 
no  effect  upon  his  callous  master,  who 
poured  acid  into  the  wounds  which  greatly 
inflamed  them.  He  was  now  ready  for 
Smith's  purpose,  and  after  being  assured 


]  1 8  CIVILIZA  TIOJV '  S  INFERNO. 

tli.it  be  must  beg  money  and  beg  effectwely, 
if  be  did  not  wisb  bis  arms  hurned  off,  he 
was  sent  into  tbe  street.  Smith,  however, 
did  not  allow  him  to  get  beyond  bis  sight. 
He  was  compelled  to  tell  all,  who  were 
willing  to  listen,  a  most  pitiful  story  of 
how,  while  hard  at  work  in  a  factory,  he 
was  crippled  by  having  some  poisonous 
acid  fall  on  his  arms.  Edward  begged 
faithfully  each  day,  under  the  close  sur- 
veillance of  his  master,  and  at  night 
turned  over  a  goodly  sum,  in  return  for 
which  be  received  scanty  food  and  a  filthy 
bed.  Smith,  meantime,  was  spending  his 
nights  in  the  reckless  abandon  character- 
istic of  an  old  debauche  who  had  sounded 
the  lowest  depths  of  vice.  One  day,  how- 
ever, Edward's  father,  who  was  searching 
New  York,  street  by  street,  discovered 
his  boy.  Smith  was  arrested  and  sent  to 
the  penitentiary.  This  is  doubtless  an 
extreme  case,  and  yet  events  are  constantly 
coming  to  the  surface  which  show  how 
prevalent  is  this  pedagogy  in  crime. 
Inspector  Byrnes  some  time  ago  observed 
that,  during  the  last  two  or  three  years,  at 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  119 

least  four  liiindrecl  boys  and  young  men 
had  been  arrested  for  crimes  originating  in 
low  lodging-houses,  which  are  the  head- 
quarters for  our  modern  Fagans. 

There  is  another  pursuit  in  this  under- 
world even  more  terrible  than  this  system- 
atic schooling  of  the  young  in  theft, — a 
crime  so  revolting  that  it  is  seldom  men- 
tioned, and  for  this  reason  is  gradually 
growing  to  enormous  proportions.  I  refer 
to  the  traffic  in  girls.  The  terrible  revela- 
tions of  the  Fall  Mall  Gazette,  a  few  years 
since,  sent  a  shudder  through  all  civilized 
lands,  because,  in  addition  to  the  horrors 
depicted,  they  revealed  two  startling  facts : 
the  prevalence  of  this  polluting,  white-child 
slavery;  and,  secondly,  that  at  the  head  of 
fashionable  society  stood  the  battalions  of 
social  lepers,  for  whom  these  wretches  plied 
their  infamous  trade.  The  author  of  a 
recent  work*  on  the  dark  side  of  Chicago 
life,  commissioned  a  number  of  earnest  pur- 
ity-loving persons  to  investigate  this  phase 
of  evil  in  his  city.  The  results  were  appall- 
ing.   These  commissioners  found  that  many 

*"  Chicago's  Dark  Placos." 


120  CIVILTZATION'S  INFERNO. 

ivomen  were  engaged  in  this  loathsome  traf- 
fic. Incoming  trains  were  frequently  board- 
ed. The  young,  unsophisticated  country 
girl  was  readily  recognized ;  her  acquaint- 
ance easily  made,  after  which  friendly  con- 
versations elicited  all  the  procuress  desired. 
If  the  girl  proved  to  be  a  stranger  and  had 
no  one  to  meet  her,  she  usually  fell  an  easy 
victim.  This,  however,  was  only  one  oE 
many  methods  employed  to  decoy  the  inno- 
cent to  riun.  It  has,  until  recently,  been 
the  custom  of  some  of  these  procuresses  to 
obtain  visitors'  tickets,  by  which  they  were 
enabled  to  enter  the  wards  of  the  County 
Hospital,  at  Chicago,  at  all  time  5.  Here 
they  watched  for  attractive  girls  who  were 
convalescent.  The  fact  that  they  were  in 
the  County  Hospital  proved  that  they  were 
without  resources;  and  with  false  promises 
of  lucrative  pay  for  easy  and  honorable 
employment,  they  were  led  to  a  fate  more 
terrible  than  death.  The  author  of  the 
wofk  referred  to  above  states  that  he  has 
]:)een  authoritatively  informed  that  the  war- 
den of  the  County  Hospital  had  recently 
called  in  several  visitors'  tickets,  and  now 


JDE:JOCliACY  OF  BARKNESS.  121 

demands  a  mure  tliorouo'li  examination  into 
the  standing  of  those  who  apply  for  tickets, 
because  of  having  discovered  the  terrible 
work  going  on.  I  have  room  only  for  one 
case  cited;  but  it  will  illustrate  the  horrors 
of  this  tratHc  in  human  virtue,  and  should 
prove  a  warning  to  parents.  The  noblest 
and  purest  girls  of  to-day  may  be  ruined, 
in  spite  of  themselves,  in  our  great  cities ; 
and  owing;  to  that  false  sentiment  which 
would  conceal  from  the  onward-moving 
victims  the  pitfalls  which  lead  to  death, 
armies  of  \)UYe  and  noble  girls,  year  by  year, 
fall  into  snares  hidden  from  view  until  too 
late. 

Here  is  the  story  to  which  I  have  referred : 
A  girl,  not  j^et  fifteen  years  of  age, 
came  from  a  town  in  a  neighboring 
state.  She  had  been  a  clerk  in  a  grocery 
store;  but,  things  not  being  so  com- 
fortable at  home  as  she  desired,  the 
thought  that  in  Chicago  work  could  be 
found,  and  an  independent  living  'made, 
induced  her  to  leave  home  and  go  there. 
After  she  had  been  in  the  city  a  few  days, 
the    weather   being   cold    and    frosty,  she 


122  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

slipped  on  the  curbstone  and  broke  her 
ankle.  Helpless  and  alone,  without  home 
and  money,  there  was  but  one  place  for 
her  to  go,  the  County  Hospital,  and  thither 
she  was  sent.  After  a  while  she  was 
removed  to  the  hospital  at  Dunning,  where 
she  remained  for  several  months.  Just  as 
she  was  about  to  be  discharged,  a  woman 
came,  and,  passing  through  the  ward, 
spoke  to  her,  and  asked  if  she  wished  a 
good  position  as  a  nurse-girl.  A  glowing 
account  was  given  her  of  the  sweet  and 
beautiful  children  and  their  eleo-ant  home. 
The  poor  child  was  overjoyed  at  the 
prospect  of  a  comfortable  home,  and  at 
once  asked  the  doctor  if  she  might  be  dis- 
charged. The  physician  gave  her  the 
permit  to  leave;  she  was  brought  by  the 
woman  into  the  city;  a  hack  met  them  at 
the  depot,  and  she  was  taken  to  a  house  of 
shame,  and  there  kept  under  lock  and  key. 
A  lady  commissioner,  visiting  the  house, 
was  Heard  by  the  imprisoned  child  pleading 
with  another  of  the  girls  to  leave  her  life 
of  sin;  and  the  final  plea  struck  an  attent- 
ive ear :     "  If  you  do  get  tired  of  this  place, 


DEMOCRACY  OF  DARKNESS.  123 

come  to  us  at — and  we'll  care  for  you." 
The  young  prisoner  determined,  if  possible, 
to  escape;  and  a  few  days  later,  her  door 
being  accidentally  left  unlocked,  she  ran 
out,  and,  escaping  detection,  found  her  way 
to  the  house  where  loving  hearts  were 
ready  to  welcome  and  help  her. 

Thus  far  we  have  caught  a  few  glimpses 
of  the  horrors  of  the  aljyss,  have  heard 
some  distant  plaints  from  the  inferno  of 
our  civilization,  some  notes  from  the  sym- 
phony of  despair;  only  enough,  however, 
to  hint  at  the  measureless  misery  of  this 
Avorld  of  gloom,  where  bloom  no  fragrant 
flowers,  and  from  whence  hope  and  joy, 
inseparable  companions  of  the  uncrushed 
soul,  have  forever  departed.  Ah!  poor 
Ishmaelites,  your  sins  are  many !  but  you, 
also,  have  suffered  from  the  weight  of  a 
world's  selfishness,  and  you  have  been 
denied  justice  and  education,  which  are  the 
handmaids  of  progress. 


WHY  THE 
ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY. 


125 


"  '  Have  ye  founded  your  thrones  and  altars,  then, 
On  the  bodies  and  souls  of  living  men  ? 
And  think  ye  that  building  shall  endure, 
Which  shelters  the  noble  and  crushes  the  poor  ? 
"With  gates  of  silver  and  bars  of  gold 
Ye  have  fenced  my  sheep  from  their  Father's  fold  ; 
I  have  heard  the  dropping  of  their  tears 
In  heaven  these  eighteen  hundred  years.' 

"  '  O,  Lord  and  Master,  not  ours  the  guilt, 
We  build  but  as  our  fathers  built. 
Behold  thine  images,  how  they  stand. 
Sovereign  and  sole,  through  all  our  land. 
Our  task  is  hard  —  with  sword  and  flame 
To  hold  thy  earth  forever  the  same  ; 
And  with  sharp  crooks  of  steel  to  keep 
Still,  as  thou  leftest  them,  thy  sheep.' 

"  Then  Christ  sougnt  out  an  artisan, 
A  low-browed,  stunted,  haggard  man, 
And  a  motherless  girl,  whose  fingers  thin 
Pushed  from  her  faintly  want  and  sin. 
These  set  he  in  the  midst  of  them. 
And  as  they  drew  back  their  garment  hem, 
For  fear  of  defilement,  '  Lo,  here,'  said  he, 
'The  images  ye  have  made  of  me.' " 

James  Russell  Lowell. 


126 


117/1'  TUE  ISUMAELITES  MUL  TIPL  Y.     127 


V. 

WHY  THE  ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY. 

Ethical  significance  of  loose  morals  in  the  speculative  world — 
A  further  word  ou  taxation  —  Immigi-ation  —  Cheap 
lodging-houses  —  The  saloon,  the  supreme  curse  of  nine- 
teenth-ceatury  civilization — -The  iutluence  of  drink  ou 
the  living  —  Its  iutluence  on  posterity  —  "What  is  to  be 
done  —  "What  the  church  might  accomplish. 

1NEXT  desire  to  notice  a  few  basic  causes 
of  the  appalling  increase  of  crime  at  the 
social  nadir,  an  idea  of  the  tropical  growth 
of  which  may  be  gained  by  noting  the  facts 
that  in  1889  the  number  of  murders  known 
to  have  been  committed  in  this  country 
were  three  thousand,  five  hundred  and 
sixty-eight.  In  1890  there  were  four 
thousand,  two  hundred  and  ninety;  and  in 
1891  this  mania  for  human  life  had  so 
increased  that  the  records  show  four  thous- 
and, nine  hundred  and  six,  murders  known 
to  have  been  committed — an  increase  in 
two  years  of  one  thousand    three  hundred 


128  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

and  thirty-eight  murders.  Now,  it  must 
be  evident  to  the  most  casual  observer, 
that  there  are  certain  potent  causes  opera- 
ting in  such  a  manner  as  to  increase  the 
borders  of  this  commonwealth  of  social 
night.  Space  prevents  my  touching  upon 
more  than  three  or  four,  which  seem  to  be 
most  immediate  in  their  baleful  effects. 

1.  The  decUfie  in  integrity,  incident  to 
the  rise  of  the  j^resent  speeidative  age,  and 
the  ascendancy  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  dol- 
lar.—  It  would  be  impossible  to  estimate 
the  evil  effects  upon  the  social  ceUar  of 
the  rapid  accumulation  of  wealth  by  extra- 
moral  methods,  which  has  attained  such 
general  currency  during  the  past  three  or 
four  decades,  and  which,  while  not  neces- 
sarily transcending  the  letter  of  our  crimi- 
nal law,  outrages  every  principle  of  justice, 
humanity,  and  moral  rectitude.  But  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  upon  no  class  of  people, 
unless  it  be  the  world  of  wealth  at  the 
social  zenith,  have  the  injurious  influences 
>een  more  marked  than  upon  those  who 
dwell  in  civilization's  sub-cellar.  They  are 
not  moles,  these  children  of   the  nadir; 


WUY  THE  ISIIMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     129 

many  of  their  number  are  among  the 
shrewdest  and  most  alert  of  men;  they 
quickly  recognize  any  deflection  from  rec- 
titude on  the  part  of  those  who  profess 
respectability.  From  the  lips  of  many 
who  have  fallen  within  the  clutch  of  the 
law,  we  have  heard  self -justification  on  the 
score  of  having  merely  imitated  the  kings 
and  barons  of  the  commercial  and  specu- 
lative world,  showing  how  closely  they 
follow  the  questionable  movements  and 
methods  of  the  Napoleons  of  modern  finance. 
Now,  this  under-world  has  beheld  what  all 
thoughtful  persons  have  noted  who  have 
watched  the  ferocious  struggle  for  fortunes 
in  recent  years.  They  have  seen  shrewd, 
calculating  men,  who  in  secret  council  have 
determined  upon  a  speculative  movement 
by  which  they  expected  to  reap  millions  of 
dollars  in  a  few  hours  or  days,  the  success 
of  which  depended  upon  their  ability  to 
deceive  those  who  still  had  faith  in  the 
integrity  of  man.  They  have  seen  the 
minions  of  these  commercial  brigands 
industriously  engaged  for  weeks,  and  some- 
times   months     in    circulating    false    and 


130  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

intentionally  deceptive  reports  upon  the 
street  and  through  the  press.  They  have 
watched  the  grand  denouement — the  crash 
of  fortunes,  the  wreck  of  banks,  the  despol- 
iation of  hundreds,  and  the  consequent 
suicide  of  not  a  few ;  while  the  calculating 
conspirators,  who  from  the  beginning  held 
a  winning  hand,  have  emerged  with  mil- 
lions of  plunder,  amid  the  applause  of  a 
society  so  morally  enervated  that  justice 
and  human  rights  sink  into  insignificance 
before  the  gold  of  the  successful  bandits. 
They  also  have  observed  the  rise  of  men, 
not  by  honorable  competition,  but  by  crafty 
and  cunning  methods  which  have  enabled 
them  to  relentlessly  crush  out  all  competit- 
ors, and  thus,  over  wrecked  hopes,  honest 
toil,  and  ruined  fortunes,  climb  to  the 
heights  of  the  many-times  millionaires. 
And  they  have  also  seen  the  still  more 
common  spectacle  of  men  acquiring  mil- 
lions through  the  aid  of  injustice,  in  the 
robe  of  special  privilege;  and  that  still 
more  cruel  wrong,  the  scaling  down  of 
wages  of  the  toiling  multitude  to  the  starv- 
ation line.     They  have,  time  and  again, 


WHY  THE  ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     131 

seen  poor  girls  and  haggard  men  pushed  to 
the  brink,  nay,  even  driven  into  the  lowest 
cellar,  through  these  ruthless  destroyers  of 
the  happiness  of  millions ;  and  then,  when 
for  policy's  sake,  or  as  a  sedative  for  some 
latent  twinge  of  conscience,  or  because  they 
wished  the  applause  of  the  multitude,  these 
rich  men  have  carelessly  written  a  check 
for  the   church,  or  wdth   easy  grace  have 
tossed  a  bag  of  gold  to   some  theological 
school,   some   library,   or  popular   charity, 
they  have  beheld  the  sad  spectacle  of  the 
church,   the   city,   or  the    society   greedily 
clutching  the  polluted  wealth,  and  applaud- 
ing the  giver ;  whije  the  press  raised  syco- 
phantic cries  of  adulation,  and  thoughtless 
millions  swelled  the  choras  of  praise,  appar- 
ently forgetful  of  the  fact  that  the  ill-got- 
ten gold  given  was    merely  a    moiety  of 
the    wealth    gained     by     plunderiug     the 
masses.     Ah!  these  scenes  of  shame  have 
not  escaped  the  watchful  vigilance  of  the 
shadows  that  glide  to  aud  fro  in  the  dark- 
ness below.     The  prevalence  of  this  moral 
bankruptcy  has    exerted   its    influence    on 
the  under-world.     "What   is   right   above, 


132  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

is  right  below ;  we  may  not  proceed  as 
cautiously;  our  course  may  be  more  direct, 
but  we  will  acquire  what  we  gain  at  a 
less  expense  of  human  happiness,  and  less 
loss  of  lives  to  the  victims."  Such  is  the 
philosophy  of  the  sub-cellar ;  and  who  can 
gainsay  its  truthfulness  ?  We  often  talk 
of  tiie  moral  miasma  which  conies  from 
the  submerged  millions;  it  would  be  well 
for  society  to  pay  more  heed  to  the  scorch- 
ing rays  of  avarice,  which,  from  above,  are 
withering  millions  of  souls,  drying  up 
the  fountains  of  human  hope,  peace,  and 
joy,  and  enervating  the  integrity  of  a 
nation. 

2.  Unjust  social  conditions,  especially  as 
they  relate  to  taxation.  —  What  is  true  of 
the  evil  suffered  in  the  social  cellar  is 
almost  equally  applicable  to  the  sub-cellar; 
for  the  crowding  of  people  in  squalid  dens 
brutalizes  and  criminalizes;  and  so  long  as 
landlords  have  comparatively  low  taxes 
to  pay  for  old,  rickety,  disease-laden,  and 
vermin-infected  rookeries,  they  will  not 
replace  them  with  clean,  healthful,  or  more 
commodious  buildings;    and  while  vacant 


WBY  THE  ISTIMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     133 

lots  adjacent  to  a  city  are  ligbtly  taxed, 
land  speculators  will  hold  them  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  poor.  Thus,  our  present  sys- 
tem of  taxation  acts  as  a  two-edged  sword ; 
it  encourages  the  landlord  to  preserve  as 
long  as  possible  the  most  wretched  old 
building,  and  it  practically  bars  the  poor 
from  securing  homes  near  the  outskirts  of 
the  city.  A  recent  writer  on  social  prob- 
lems has  pointed  out  the  important  fact 
that  wealthy  people  frequently  buy  tracts 
of  land  on  which  poor  tenants  live,  tear 
down  the  buildings,  and  leave  the  land 
vacant,  because  they  do  not  want  the  poor 
near  them.  Thus  the  gulf  is,  even  in  envi- 
ronment, widening  day  by  day  between  the 
rich  and  the  poor;  and  as  one  author  sug- 
gests, "Fifth  Avenue  loathes  the  slums, 
and  the  slums  hate  Fifth  Avenue."  The 
present  system  of  taxation  is  essentially 
unjust :  it  places  a  line  on  industry ;  it  fav- 
ors the  avarice  of  landlords;  it  adds  to  the 
misery  of  the  slums,  and  increases  our 
criminal  population. 

3.     Another  frwtful  source  of  crime  is 
unrestricted  inirn'uj ration.  —  Says    Superin- 


134  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

tendent  Byrnes  !*  "It  has  frequently  been 
stated  to  me  by  thieves  that  a  large  num- 
ber of  foreign  criminals  have  their  passage 
paid  to  this  country  by  the  authorities  in 
their  native  lands  or  by  somebody  else. 
When  they  land  they  have  no  money,  or 
very  little,  and  they  immediately  seek  a 
cheap  lodging-house,  where  they  can  live 
for  almost  nothing,  meet  people  congenial 
to  them,  and  be  put  in  the  way  of  again 
engaging  in  criminal  pursuits."  To  what 
extent  this  is  true,  we  cannot  say ;  certain 
it  is,  however,  that  large  numbers  of  crim- 
inals, who  are  closely  pressed  by  the  author- 
ities in  the  older  civilizations,  or  who  view 
the  new  world  as  an  El  Dorado  for  daring 
souls,  drift  penniless  to  our  shores,  and 
thus  immensely  aid  in  swelling  the  volume 
of  crime.  Our  immigration  laws  should  be 
more  stringent.  Our  nation  should  cease 
to  be  the  asylum  for  the  moral  wrecks  of 
the  world,  at  least  until  wc  have  better 
facilities  for  reformation  than  those  in 
operation  at  present.  As  the  case  now 
stands,  the  criminal  emigrants,  as  well  as 

*■'  Darkness  and  Daylight  in  New  York." 


WHY  TflE  ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     135 

thousands  of  penniless  incomers,  drift  to 
the  cheap  lodging-honses,  which  are  already 
swarming  with  the  lowest  and  most  vicious 
of  our  people.  And  thus  the  Dead  Sea 
enlarges  its  banks;  crimes  increase;  pris- 
ons, almshouses,  public  hospitals,  and  insane 
asylums  are  crowded  to  overflowing. 

4.  Great  as  is  the  reinforceynent  given  to 
the  lower  world  by  immigration,  its  influ- 
ence in  this  respect  is  meagre  compared  to 
the  cheaj?  lochjiiKj-houses^  which,  as  one  care- 
ful writer  avers,  more  than  counterbalance 
in  evil  all  the  good  resulting  from  free  lec- 
tures, reading-rooms,  and  all  similar  agencies 
of  reform.  In  the  city  of  New  York  there 
are  two  hundred  and  seventy  of  these  houses. 
The  price  of  a  night's  lodging  is  from  twen- 
ty-five cents  down  to  three  cents  a  "spot." 
At  most  of  them  the  price  is  below  fifteen 
cents  a  night;  and  in  these  very  cheap 
quarters  we  find  filth,  vermin,  foul  odors, 
and  everything  repulsive  —  nothing  invit- 
ing. Here  congregate  the  most  wretched, 
dissipated  and  vicious  of  our  people.  In 
some  of  these  houses  men  and  women  pay 
for  a  hammock,  in   others   for   a   bench ; 


136  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

while  still  others  pay  a  few  pennies  for  a 
spot  on  the  floor.  Superintendent  Byrnes 
declares  that  "they  have  a  powerful  ten- 
dency to  produce,  foster  and  increase  crime. 
They  are,"  he  continues,  "largely  the 
resorts  of  thieves  and  other  criminals  of  the 
lowest  class,  who  here  consort  together,  and 
lay  plans  for  crime.  During  the  last  two 
or  three  years,  hundreds  of  young  men  have 
been  arrested  for  crimes  that  originated  in 
these  places.  In  many  cases  it  was  the 
first  step  in  wrong-doing."  He  then 
recounts  the  following  significant  facts, 
which  illustrate  the  legitimate  fruits 
springing  up  from  the  poisonous  atmos- 
phere of  the  cheap  lodging-houses.*  "  Lying 
on  my  desk  are  two  tintypes  of  the  cheap- 
est sort,  evidently  taken  in  the  Bowery. 
They  represent  two  young  'toughs,'  each 
holding  a  pistol  at  the  head  of  the  other. 
They  were  taken  from  the  pockets  of  the 
young  fellows,  who  were  brought  into  my 
private  room  on  charges  of  robbery.  These 
photographs  interestesl  me,  and  I  asked  the 
boys  how  they  cauio  to  be  taken  in  that 

*  "  Darkness  and  Daylight  in  New  Vork." 


WUV  THE  TSIIMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     137 

style.  '  Oh,'  tliey  answered,  '  we  held  a  pis- 
tol up  to  the  head  of  a  man  one  night  and 
got  liis  money,  and  we  just  thought  we 
w^oiild  like  to  see  how  we  looked  when  we 
did  it.'  They  seemed  proud  of  their 
achievement.  I  mention  this  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  sort  of  young  criminals  the 
cheap  lodging-houses  turn  out." 

That  we  may  gain  a  more  comprehensive 
idea  of  the  magnitude  of  this  evil,  let  us 
note  some  facts  in  relation  to  the  lodging- 
houses  of  New  York  City.  According  to 
the  official  report  of  the  police  depart- 
ment, there  were,  in  1890,  four  million,  eight 
hundred  and  twenty-three  thousand,  five 
hundred  and  ninety-five  lodgings  given  in 
New  York's  two  hundred  and  seventy 
lod!j:inc:-houses.  Of  this  number  one  mil- 
lion,  four  hundred  and  fifty-two  thousand, 
i.nd  twenty  were  given  in  tlie  sixty-four 
houses  found  in  the  eleventh  precinct. 
Thus  we  find  thirteen  thousand,  two  hund- 
red and  fifteen  people,  on  an  average,  sleep- 
ing in  these  nurseries  of  moral  and  physical 
contagion  each  night ;  while,  in  the  eleventh 
precinct  alone,  almost  four  thousand  per- 


138  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

sons,  on  an  average,  are  huddled  together 
nightly  in  filthy  quarters. 

5.  TJie  saloon.  The  supreme  or  capital 
curse  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  summed 
up  in  the  one  word  "saloon,"  because  . 
its  influence  extends  in  all  directions;  and 
wherever  it  is  felt,  human  misery,  degra- 
dation, and  moral  eclipse  follow.  It  is  the 
devil-fish  of  our  civilization,  whose  every 
tentacle  crushes  to  death.  It  pollutes 
politics;  it  degrades  manhood  ;  it  makes  a 
possible  murderer  of  every  victim ;  it  fills  the 
slums  with  want  and  wretchedness;  it 
crowds  our  jails  to  overflowing  and  is  a 
leading  factor  in  populating  insane  asy- 
lums, almshouses,  and  the  Potter's  Field ; 
it  destroys  the  physical  strength  of  man- 
hood; it  beclouds  the  intellect;  it  obliter- 
ates moral  integrity.  Butj-towering  above 
all  this,  its  crowning  evil,  and  that  which 
makes  its  existence  the  national  crime  of 
the  age,  is  its  effect  upon  the  guiltless. 
The  innocent  wife,  the  prattling  children, 
and  the  unborn  baby  all  feel  its  cruel 
curse.  This  is  the  phase  of  the  problem 
which    makes    its    toleration    a    crime    of 


y 


WHY  THE  ISUMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     139 

measureless  proportions.  The  supremacy 
of  the  saloon  affords  a  most  impressive 
illustration  of  the  possibility  of  a  whole 
nation  becoming  morally  ancesthetized  by 
a  curse  constantly  Ijofore  its  vision,  and 
whose  wealth  is  lavishly  used  to  quell  all 
opposition  wdiich  would  deal  it  mortal 
blows.  We  build  insane  asylums  and  in- 
carcerate madmen,  for  the  protection  of  the 
lives  of  their  families  and  others;  but  here 
we  find  a  so-called  christian  nation  giving 
the  stamp  of  legality  to  a  traffic  which 
takes  from  thousands  of  innocent  people 
every  gleam  of  hope  and  happiness,  cloth- 
ing bodies  in  rags  and  minds  in  perpetual 
fear.  If  the  saloon  cursed  only  its  victims, 
the  case  would  be  different;  but  it  is  the 
gloved  hand  behind  the  automatic  victim 
which  is  responsible  for  a  large  proportion 
of  the  crimes  committed  yearly  against  the 
innocent.  Let  me  illustrate:  A  New 
York  journal*  recently  published  a  care- 
ful summary  of  the  history  of  twenty  mur- 
derers who  have  expiated  their  crimes  upon 
the  present  public  scaffold  in  the  city  of  St. 

*"  The  Voice." 


140  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

Louis,  Mo.  Of  this  score  of  condemned  men 
all  but  four  committed  the  crimes,  for  which 
they  were  executed,  wliile  under  the  influ- 
ence of  liquor;  while  a  number  of  the  mur- 
ders were  primarily  caused  by  drink,  or,  in 
other  words,  the  victims  were  those  against 
whom  the  drunkards  had  no  more  grudge 
or  motive  for  murder  than  a  maniac  exhibits 
when  lie  kills  his  best  friend.  I  have  only 
space  for  a  brief  sketch  of  one  of  these  mur- 
ders, but  it  is  sufficient  to  illustrate  the 
point  I  am  making  —  that  the  saloon  to-day 
is  the  primal  cause  of  many  of  the  most 
heinous  crimes  against  the  innocent: 

"At  the  age  of  twenty-three,  young 
Patrick  O'Shea,  a  sturdy  mechanic,  mar- 
ried a  beautiful  girl  named  Lizzie  Welsh. 
No  happier  couple  lived  than  they,  and 
at  the  end  of  two  years  a  little  boy  was 
added  to  their  family  circle;  but  a  cloud 
appeared  on  the  horizon.  Pat  began  to 
spend  his  wages  in  drunken  debauchery, 
and  their  once  happy  hearth-stone  was 
becoming  anything  but  a  home.  His  wife 
struggled  on,  earning  by  the  wash-tub  food 
and   clothing    for    herself    and    boy;    and 


WHY  THE  ISnMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     141 

often  did  her  crazed  husband,  returning 
from  a  drunken  carouse,  compel  the  weary 
wife  and  mother  to  give  up  what  few 
dimes  she  had  earned  during  the  day,  that 
he  might  spend  the  same  for  rum.  Things 
went  on  from  bad  to  worse.  Willie  had 
grown  to  be  a  strong  boy  of  eleven,  when 
one  awful  day  in  Marcli,  the  patient 
mother,  returning  from  a  long  day's  work, 
found  her  husband  sleeping  in  a  drunken 
stupor.  Silently  tiptoeing  about  the  room, 
she  quietly  prepared  a  frugal  supper,  and 
lovingly  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder  — 
for  she  loved  him  still  —  said,  'Awake, Pat, 
and  get  a  bite  to  eat.'  He  did  awake. 
'Whiskey,'  he  demanded.  'Give  me  some 
money!'  But  there  was  no  whiskey 
and  no  money.  He  overturned  the  table, 
cursed  and  blasphemed  until,  with  demoni- 
acal rage,  he  drew  a  knife,  and  caught  his 
wife  by  the  throat.  Brave  little  Willie 
seized  a  poker  and  struck  the  father,  then 
fled,  followed  by  the  crazed  parent,  knife 
in  hand.  Pat,  unable  to  overtake  his  son, 
rushed  back  to  the  house,  and  locked  the 
doQr,      Little    Willie^    fi'Qm    the    yutside. 


142  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

heard  a  short,  sharp  struggle,  a  shriek 
and  a  fall.  The  father  staggered  to  the 
door  with  the  knife  dripping  with  blood, 
and  the  poor  boy  saw  his  loving  mother 
Avrithing  in  the  agonies  of  death,  her 
entrails  lying  npon  the  floor." 

There  is  still  another  indictment,  as 
grave  as  this  last,  to  be  brought  against 
the  saloon,  and  that  is  found  in  its  influ- 
ence on  posterity.  It  is  calling  into  life  a  / 
generation  of  maniacs  and  murderers,  who 
come  into  the  world  predestined  to  curse 
society.  This  fact  was  recently  impress- 
ively emphasized  by  Hugues  Le  Roux  in  a 
thoughtful  paper  on  "Phases  of  Crime  in 
Paris,"  in  which  he  cites  the  eminent  Dr. 
Paul  Garnier,  chief  medical  officer  of  the 
prefecture  of  police,  as  authority  for  the 
statement  that  "in  Paris,  during  the  past 
.sixteen  years,  lunacy  has  increased  thirty 
per  cent."  Here  is  an  appalling  state- 
ment, and  the  author  continues: — 

"The  progress  of  alcoholic  insanity  has 
been  so  rapid  that  the  evil  is  now  twice  as 
prevalent  as  it  was  fifteen  years  ago. 
Almost   a    third   of   the   lunacy   cases    ob- 


WHY  THE  ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     143 

served  at  the  Dejjot  Infinnary  are  due  to 
this  disease.  Every  day  it  declares  itself 
more  violently,  and  with  a  more  marked 
homicidal  tendency.  The  accomplice  of 
two-thirds  of  the  crimes  committed,  upon 
whom  the  criminals  themselves  throw  the 
responsiljility  of  their  evil  deeds,  is  alcohol. 
It  visits  ujjon  the  child  the  sins  of  the 
father,  and  engenders  in  the  following  gen-  / 
eration  homicidal  instincts.  Since  I  have 
frequented  the  haunts  of  misery  and  vice 
in  Paris,  I  have  observed  gutter  children 
by  the  hundred,  who  are  only  awaiting 
their  opportunity  to  become  assassins  — 
the  children  of  drunkards.  Moreover, 
there  is  a  terrible  haw  in  these  young 
WTctches  —  a  flaw  which  doctors  do  not 
observe,  but  which  the  psychologist  sees 
clearly  and  notes  with  apprehension — -the 
absence  of  affectional  emotions;  and  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  if  these  criminals  are 
neither  ancesthetiques  nor  lunatics,  their 
characteristics  are  insensibility  and  piti- 
lessness." 

The  terrible  influence  of  liquor  upon  the 
civilization  of  to-morrow  is  further  empha- 


144  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

sized    by    this    author    in    the    following 
words :  — 

"  A  few  years  ago  I  was  present  in  Dr. 
Garnier's  consulting-room,  watching  the 
prisoners  from  the  depot  filing  past.  We 
were  informed  that  a  child  had  been  broua-ht 
by  its  parents  to  be  examined.  These  peo- 
ple were  shown  in;  they  belonged  to  the 
respectable  working-class,  and  were  quiet 
and  well-mannered.  The  man  was  the 
driver  of  a  dray  belonging  to  one  of  the 
railway  stations,  and  had  the  appearance 
of  a  stalwart  workingman.  The  boy  was 
barely  six  years  old ;  he  had  an  intelligent, 
rather  pretty  face,  and  was  neatly  dressed. 
'See  here.  Monsieur  le  Docteur,'  said  the 
father,  '  we  have  brought  you  our  boy ;  he 
alarms  us.  He  is  no  fool;  he  begins  to 
read;  they  are  satisfied  with  him  at  his 
school,  but  we  cannot  help  thinking  he 
must  be  insane,  for  he  wants  to  murder  his 
little  brother,  a  child  of  two  years  old. 
The  other  day  he  nearly  succeeded  in  doing 
so.  I  arrived  just  in  time  to  snatch  my 
razor  from  his  hands.'  The  boy  stood  list- 
ening with  indifference  and  without  hang- 


WHY  THE  IS<UMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     145 


ing;  his  head.  The  doctor  drew  the  child 
kindly  toward  him,  and  inquired,  'Is  it 
true  that  you  wish  to  hurt  your  little 
brother?'  With  perfect  composure  the  lit- 
tle one  replied,  'I  will  kill  him;  yes,  yes,  I 
will  kill  him ! '  The  doctor  glanced  at  the 
father,  and  asked  in  a  low  voice,  'Do  you 
drink?'  The  wife  exclaimed  indignantly, 
'He,  sir!  Why,  he  never  enters  a  public 
house,  and  has  never  come  home  drunk.' 
They  were  quite  sincere.  Nevertheless  the 
doctor  said,  'Stretch  out  your  arm.'  The 
man  obeyed;  his  hand  trembled.  Had 
these  people  told  lies,  then,  in  stating  that 
the  man  had  never  come  home  the  worse 
for  drink  ?  No ;  but  all  through  the  day, 
wherever  he  had  called  to  leave  a  package, 
the  people  of  the  house  had  given  him 
something;  to  drink  for  his  trouble.  He 
had  become  a  drunkard  ivithout  hnowbuj  it, 
and  the  poison  that  had  entered  his  blood 
was,  at  this  moment,  filling  the  head  of  his 
little  child  with  the  dreams  of  an  assassin." 
Wliat  is  to  he  done?  In  my  judgment 
the  initial  stej?  to  practical  and  enduring 
reform  is  the  patient,  exhaustive  study  of 


146  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

the  social  cellar.  \Ye  must  systematically 
examine  the  great  root  causes  of  poverty, 
vice  and  crime,  and  also  the  relation  which 
the  upper  world  bears  to  the  social  cellar. 
We  must  obtain  statistics  and  facts,  not 
for  tlie  purpose  of  proving  any  special 
claim,  but  that  we  may  arrive  at  the  truth, 
and  thus  show  precisely  where  the  root 
evils  lie,  and  the  relation  of  each  to  the  sum 
total  of  crime  and  misery.  Armed  with 
these  facts,  an  agitation  can  be  inaugurated 
which  will  result  in  a  revolution  of  meas- 
ureless importance  to  civilization.  But  to 
do  this,  we  must  have  (1),  organization; 
(2),  sufficient  means  to  prosecute  the  work 
properly;  (3),  consecrated  lives  —  persons 
willing  to  devote  their  best  service  to  the 
noblest  of  crusades.  All  these  requisites 
the  Church  possesses ;  and  if  the  spirit  of 
the  great  Master,  whose  life  was  a  prayer 
for  the  social  cellar,  still  blazes  within  her 
sanctuary;  if,  indeed,  the  spell  of  the  golden 
calf  has  not  become  more  powerful  than 
the  golden  rule,  she  can,  by  embracing  this 
supreme  opportunity,  win  back  the  millions 
Jesus  declared  he  came  to  seek  and  to  save, 


WriY  THE  ISIIMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     147 

but  whom  she  has  alienated  by  withdraw- 
ing from  them.  And  what  is  more,  she 
can  work  a  revolution  for  humanity  which 
will  change  the  front  of  civilization,  while 
she  touches  with  her  sweet,  inspiring  influ- 
ence millions  of  our  fellow-men  who  are 
now  struggling  without  hope.  This  great 
reform  might  easily  be  inaugurated  by  a 
union  of  churches.  If  half  the  churches  in 
any  large  city  would  unite,  the  solution  of 
the  problem  of  the  social  cellar  would  be  an 
early  achievement,  because  they  possess  the 
requisites  —  orrjanization,  resources,  and 
earnest  lives,  ready  to  give  their  best  ser- 
vice to  the  supreme  demand  of  our  day  and 
generation. 

I  will  outline  a  plan  of  work,  which  I 
believe  would  be  thoroughly  practical,  and 
which  would  ultimately  result  in  the  inaug- 
uration of  an  educational  agitation,  which 
would  inevitably  mean  a  peaceful  but  rad- 
ical revolution ;  while  its  immediate  results 
would  outweigh,  although  not  necessarily 
interfere  with,  present  work  along  charit- 
able lines,  it  would  also  bring  the  Church 
into    touch    with    the    lower    world.      Of 


148  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

course,  I  only  give  these  views  as  hints  of 
what  I  believe  would  prove  feasible  if  any 
considerable  portion  of  the  ministry  and 
their  communions  in  our  cities  appreciated 
the  great  need  of  immediate  measures  of 
relief  and  reform,  and  the  necessity  of  plac- 
ing the  principles  enunciated  by  Christ,  and 
exemplified  in  his  life,  above  all  considera- 
tions of  fashionable  plutocracy.  I  would 
suggest  that  in  each  church,  the  minister 
and  all  deeply  interested  in  the  cause  of 
human  brotherhood,  organize  themselves 
into  a  band,  pledged  to  the  double  work: 
first,  of  scientifically  and  impartially  study- 
ing the  root  causes  of  poverty  and  crime, 
and  the  results  flowing  from  these  causes, 
from  ethical,  economic  and  social  points  of 
view;  also,  the  relation  of  these  causes  to 
posterity ;  and  second,  to  the  labor  of  aid- 
ing this  submerged  world  with  immediate 
succor.  I  would  have  the  band  of  each 
congregation  adopt  a  simple,  broad,  but 
binding  pledge,  and  further  elect  officers 
who  would  constitute  a  governing  board 
for  that  special  battalion  of  light;  the 
pledge   for   membership    should   carry  ab- 


WHY  THE  ISnMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     149 

solute  and  iinqestioning  obedience  to  the 
commands  of  the  superior  officers  or  the 
governing  board.  It  would  be  absolutely 
necessary,  it  seems  to  me,  to  adopt  a  pledge 
of  obedience  as  binding  as  that  of  a  mili- 
tary organization,  in  order  to  secure  the 
best  results.  The  governing  board  for  each 
congregation  should  affiliate  with  those  of 
all  churches  in  the  movement.  And  here 
I  would  suggest  that  the  governing  boards 
of  all  the  affiliated  bodies  elect  superior 
officers,  under  whose  direction  each  board 
would  work  precisely  as  subordinate  officers 
in  a  regular  army.  In  this  manner  there 
would  soon  be  formed  a  magnificent  organ- 
ization representing  the  flower  of  all  the 
churches  under  perfect  discipline,  and 
prompted  Ijy  the  single  desire  of  elevating 
civilization,  and  ennobling  manhood  and 
womanhood. 

The  work  could  be  divided  into  two  dis- 
tinct divisions  :  o]ie  devoting  its  energies  to 
the  temporary  relief  of  the  poor  and  the 
rescue  of  individuals ;  the  second  working 
for  the  abolition  of  the  curses  which  are 
prime    causes    in    producing    poverty   and 


150  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

crime.  It  would  be  the  duty  of  division 
one  to  systematically  carry  on  palliative 
work  by  establishing  coffee-houses,  free 
reading-rooms,  free  concerts,  lectures,  indus- 
trial schools,  and  factories  for  those  tem- 
porarily out  of  employment.  The  work 
would  have  a  healthy  and  uplifting  influ- 
ence, while  relieving  wretchedness  and 
bringing  gleams  of  hope  into  otherwise  ray- 
less  lives.  The  labor  of  the  second  division 
would,  of  course,  be  vastly  more  important. 
Upon  its  committees,  and  the  individuals 
employed,  would  devolve  the  duty  of  carry- 
ing on  the  most  critical  aud  scientific 
investigations  of  the  various  aspects  of  life 
in  the  submerged  world  that  have  ever  been 
attempted.  The  work  in  this  department 
should  be  divided  into  several  sections ;  the 
duty  of  each  section  being,  to  collect  statis- 
tics and  facts  relating  to  crime  and  poverty. 
Each  arrest  should  be  noted,  the  cause 
leading  to  the  apprehension,  and,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  the  expense  of  each  case,  as  well 
as  the  penalties  imposed ;  the  history  of 
criminals,  their  antecedents,  the  causes 
whicli  led  to  crime  j  the  approximate  inllu- 


WHY  THE  ISHMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     151 

ence  of  competition,  unjust  economic  con- 
ditions, intemperance  and  other  evils,  as 
well  as  the  influence  exhibited  by  environ- 
ment and  the  law  of  heredity,  in  each  case 
examined.  Criminology  must  be  studied 
as  a  science  —  so  must  life  in  the  slums  — 
before  we  can  get  the  authoritative  data 
essential  for  a  victorious  crusade.  We 
must  obtain  indisputable  facts;  be  able  to 
assign  to  each  evil  its  proper  place  ;  classify 
the  cardinal  causes  of  poverty  and  crime, 
and  the  relation  each  bears  to  the  sum 
total.  Once  set  this  machinery  in  motion, 
and  an  educational  era  will  be  inaugurated 
as  irresistible  as  the  Reformation,  ushered 
in  by  Luther,  in  Europe,  or  the  twenty- 
years'  anti-slavery  agitation  of  Wilberforce, 
in  England.  Monthly  meetings  should  be 
held,  where  all  important  data  and  infor- 
mation gathered  should  be  classified  and 
incorporated  in  carefully  prepared  reports ; 
and  ministers  should  devote  at  least  one 
sermon  a  month  to  this  great  work,  pre- 
senting the  facts  gathered  in  the  most 
effective  manner.  Collections  should  be 
taken  up  regularly,  and  each  congregation 


152  CIVTLTZATION'S  INFERNO. 

or  community  canvassed  for  subscriptions 
for  the  effective  and  vigorous  carrying  on 
of  the  work.  Carefully  prepared  bulletins 
containing  tables  of  statistics  and  data 
obtained  and  the  central  facts  secured, 
should  be  published  at  least  every  three 
months.  In  this  manner  the  conscience 
of  our  civilization  would  be  stirred  to  its 
profoundest  depths. 

If  this  great  question  is  to  be  solved 
peaceably,  it  must  be  solved  at  an  early 
day;  and  if  the  solution  is  to  come  from 
above,  it  will  be  essential  to  have  absolute 
facts  upon  which  to  base  the  indictments 
and  carry  on  the  agitation.  Mere  senti- 
mentality will  not  answer.  We  must 
have  incontrovertible  data  upon  which  to 
base  our  arguments.  And  to  secure  this, 
it  is  necessary  to  have  organization  and 
concerted  action,  tnoncy  to  properly  prose- 
cute the  work,  and  men  and  ivomen  willing 
to  devote  their  lives  to  the  noblest  crusade 
ever  undertaken  for  the  emancipation  of 
our  fellow-men. 

I  have  a  firm  and  abiding  faith  in  the 
future.      I     believe     that     the    education 


WHY  THE  ISIIMAELITES  MULTIPLY.     153 

which  has  become  so  general,  the  inven- 
tions which  have  woven  a  world  into  a 
family,  and  the  strides  of  science,  with  its 
multitudinous  blessings,  have  brought  civi- 
lization to  the  threshold  of  a  new  day,  in 
which  brotherhood  will  triumph  over  class 
distinctions;  in  which  the  ideas  of  ancient 
days,  which  have  enslaved  the  brains  of 
men,  favored  the  development  of  the  self- 
ish and  sensual  side  of  man's  life,  and 
degraded  the  position  of  women,  will  dis- 
appear. I  believe,  despite  the  sneers  of 
self-satisfied  conservatism,  that  the  heart- 
hunger  of  the  age  for  a  higher,  broader, 
and  purer  life  is  a  prophecy  of  the  accomp- 
lishment of  that  vision  of  the  ages,  of 
which  prophets,  philosophers  and  sages 
have  caught  luminous  glimpses,  and  which 
every  aspiring  soul,  since  the  morning  of 
our  race,  in  moments  of  holy  exaltation, 
has  yearned  to  enthrone  in  the  royal  cham- 
ber of  the  mind  —  that  ideal  life  which, 
held  on  the  sensitive  plate  of  human 
thought,  is,  generation  by  generation, 
being  developed,  until  even  now  we  behold 
a  splendid  prophecy  of  a  dawning  reality. 


154  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

But  while  entertaining  this  firm  convic- 
tion, I  do  not  for  a  moment  lose  sight  of 
the  more  vital  truth  that  upon  us  devolves 
the  responsibility  of  ushering  in  this 
approaching  day  by  prompt,  conscientious 
and  persistent  labor  for  the  elevation  of 
the  children  of  the  social  cellar;  for  the 
emancipation  and  redemption  of  civiliza- 
tion's miserables,  and  securing  for  all  who 
are  oppressed  that  full-orbed  justice  em- 
braced in  the  golden  rule,  and  without 
which  there  can  be  no  endurino;  civilization. 


THE  FROTH  AND   DREGS. 


155 


"  You  preach  to  me  to  be  just, 
And  this  is  His  realm  you  say  ; 
And  the  good  are  dying  with  hunger 
And  the  had  gorge  every  day." 

The  Iliiidoo's  Reply. 


Birds  sing  as  sweetly  in  the  bowers  of  Spring  ; 
Suns  mount  as  regally  their  sai^phire  throne  ; 
Stars  set  the  gloom  aglow,  and  harvests  yield, 
As  though  man  nestled  in  the  lap  of  Love  : 
All,  all  goes  right  and  merrily  with  the  World. 

But  slip  your  dainty  mask  aside  and  see 

Hell  open  fathomless  at  your  very  feet ! 

The  Poor  are  murdered  body  and  soul  ;  the  Rich 

In  Pleasure's  Goblet  melt  their  pearl  of  life  : 

Ay,  all  goes  right  and  merrily  with  the  "World. 

So  Sodom,  grim  old  Reveller  !  danced  to  her  death. 
Volui)tuous  Music  throbb'd  through  all  her  Courts  ; 
Mirth  wantoned  at  her  heart,  one  pulse  before 
The  tongues  of  Fire  told  out  her  tale  of  wrongs  — 
And  all  went  right  and  merrily  with  the  AVorld. 

Gerald  Massey. 


156 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  157 


YI. 

THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS. 

Social  contrasts  as  illustrated  in  two  noteworthy  books  —  The 
Froth — -Life  in  the  gay,  frivolous  world  of  society  — 
Typical  scenes  —  Tendency  of  such  life^ — Immorality 
treading  on  the  heels  of  luxury,  idleness  and  selfishness 
—  The  other  world,  or  a  glance  at  the  dregs  —  Crime, 
poverty  and  misery  in  the  slums  of  London  — Facts  which 
stagger  the  imagination  —  Typical  cases. 

EARLY  in  1891,  on  entering  one  of  the 
largest  book  stores  in  Boston,  I 
noticed  two  immense  tiers  of  books, 
placed  side  by  side  on  one  of  the  most 
prominent  counters.  Both  were  meeting 
with  large  sales.  One  of  the  volumes 
was  bound  in  black,  very  plain.  The  deli- 
cate binding  of  the  other  was  protected  by 
Avhite-glazed  paper  covers,  printed  in  gold. 
The  sight  of  these  two  books,  placed  in 
juxtaposition,  produced  in  me  a  distinct 
mental  shock  —  a  strange  thrill,  such  as  I  re- 
membered having  experienced  a  few  months 


158  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

before,  when,  glancing  over  one  of  the  New 
York  dailies,  I  had  noticed  an  extended  de- 
scription of  a  magnificent  ball  given  by  the 
Vanderbilts  at  Newport,  wliile  in  another 
column,  I  saw  a  thrillingly  pathetic  pen- 
picture  of  the  terrible  want  then  being 
experienced  in  the  little  cottages  and  hov- 
els of  the  poor  strikers  on  the  Vanderbilt 
railroad.  It  seemed,  as  I  beheld  in  bold 
antithesis,  those  graphic  scenes  of  gilded 
splendor  and  grim  squalor,  of  triumphant 
capital  and  vanquished  labor,  that  we 
might  be  witnessing  the  prelude  or  first 
mutterings  of  a  storm  such  as  followed  the 
giddy,  voluptuous,  and  selfish  life  at  the 
Louvre,  during  those  troubled  years  when 
the  multitudes  of  Paris  saw  the  world 
through  fierce  eyes,  sunken  far  into  their 
sockets  by  hunger  long  endured.  Some- 
thing of  the  same  sensation,  I  experienced 
on  seeing  these  two  books  side  by  side; 
one,  "Society  as  I  Have  Found  It,"  by 
Ward  McAllister;  the  other  might  have 
been  termed,  "Society  as  I  Have  Found  It," 
by  General  Booth.  One  was  an  elaborate 
description  of  the  froth  on  the  surface  of 


THE  FBOTII  AND  DUEGS.  159 

social  life  to-day,  the  other  a  picture  of  the 
dregs  of  civilization;  vivid  glimpses  of  the 
upper  and  lower  strata  of  our  modern  life ; 
the  world  of  indolent  frivolity,  and  the 
world  of  crime,  degradation,  and  poverty. 
The  denizens  of  the  one — idlers  who  eat, 
drink,  dance,  and  are  consumed  in  a  butter- 
fly existence;  the  other  filled  with  gaunt, 
hungry,  hollow-eyed  millions  to  whom  life 
is  an  awful  curse.  The  one  basking  in  the 
sunshine  of  wealth,  floating  on  the  surface, 
held  up  by  the  great  current  beneath ;  the 
other  doomed  to  dwell  in  perpetual  night, 
having  settled  or  been  forced  to  the  bottom 
where  the  pressure  is  greatest,  and  hope  dies. 
These  pen  pictures  of  two  phases  of  our 
civilization  are  written  by  persons  who  may 
be  justly  termed  experts  in  the  domain  they 
describe  ;  and  though,  from  a  purely  literary 
point  of  view,  their  work  is  vulnerable, 
there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  either 
has  given  other  than  a  truthful  narration, 
for  each  is  in  perfect  rajiiiort  with  his 
theme ;  each  knows  the  ground  over  which 
he  journeys,  as  thoroughly  as  a  trapper 
knpws  tlae  mountaii)  trail, 


160  CIVILIZA  TION '  S  INFERNO. 

The  first  of  these  books,  as  I  have 
indicated,  treats  of  what  may  be  termed 
the  froth  of  society,  that  is,  the  wealth- 
laden  idlers  who  live  chiefly  for  themselves, 
for  the  petty  triumphs  in  fashion's  hollow 
life,  those  who  enjoy  the  superficial  and 
artificial  life  of  what  is  known  as  society, 
when  millions  of  their  fellowmen  are  being 
forced  to  the  depths  of  want  and  often  into 
crime.  Millions  of  their  brothers  and  sisters 
are  starving,  or  stealing  that  they  may  not 
starve,  who  might  be  saved,  who  would  l)e 
redeemed,  if  those  who  constitute  this 
wealth-laden  circle  in  every  metropolis 
w^ould  work  in  concert,  and  intelligently 
expend  a  portion  of  the  immense  riches 
which  they  annually  waste,  and  which  few, 
if  any  of  them,  have  created  with  their 
own  hands,  or  by  personal  exertion  outside 
of  speculation.  It  is  this  world  of  idlers 
which  Mr.  McAllister  describes  and  extols. 
Some  of  them  owe  their  prestige  chiefly  to 
the  fact  that  their  ancestors  were  early 
settlers  of  Manhattan  Island ;  others  have 
inherited  vast  fortunes;  while  the  third 
class  are  the  children  of  represeatatives 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  161 

of  the  commercial  brigands  of  to-day, — 
men  who  spend  months  converting  into 
cash  a  portion  of  their  vast  resources; 
who  then  withdraw  their  deposits  from  the 
metropolitan  banks  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  send  a  thrill  of  uncertainty  through 
the  complex  fabric  of  commercial  life ; 
wdio  follow  this  with  gloomy  rumors 
and  predictions  of  impending  business 
failures  through  the  press;  who  watch  an 
opportune  moment,  when  with  tiger-spring 
they  convulse  the  speculative  world,  crush- 
ing banks,  bankrupting  hosts  of  individuals, 
causing  many  suicides  and  untold  misery, 
and  at  length  emerge  from  the  chaos 
they  have  caused  with  millions  of  ill-gotten 
gains  —  millions  of  dollars,  not  a  cent  of 
Avliich  has  been  earned  —  millions  of  dollars 
won  by  gamblers  who  have  money  enough 
to  take  away  all  risks  on  their  part  and  who 
understand  how  to  utilize  for  their  purses 
a  system  of  legal  gambling  which  is  daily 
sapping  the  moral  force  of  the  nation  and 
paralyzing  legitimate  trade.  It  is  from  one 
of  these  three  classes  that  we  find  the 
majority  of  fashion's  votaries  in  our  great 


1G2  CIVILIZATION 'fi,  INFERNO. 

metropolis.  And  how  do  they  live  in  this 
charmed  circle?  They  winter  in  New 
York  and  summer  at  Newport,  or  some 
other  resort  of  wealth  and  fashion.  Win- 
ter and  suilimer  alike  they  feast,  drink  and 
dance.  In  summer  they  drive  in  state; 
in  winter  they  attend  the  opera.  This,  of 
course,  does  not  occupy  all  their  time,  but 
it  represents  the  absorbing  thoughts,  which, 
aside  from  the  passion  for  money  getting, 
control  life.  This  round  of  gayety  is  to 
this  element  what  invention  is  to  Edison; 
what  evolution  was  to  Darwin;  what  con- 
quest was  to  Alexander;  what  the  redemp- 
tion of  humanity  was  to  Jesus  —  the  motive 
power  which  most  sways  life;  the  over- 
mastering impulse  of  existence ;  the  thought 
or  desire,  before  which  all  else  becomes 
subordinate.  Let  us  examine  a  few  etch- 
ings from  Mr.  McAllister's  gallery  that  we 
may  acquire  a  better  idea  of  the  essential 
spirit  of  this  life.  Here  we  have  a  picture 
of  a  typical  picnic  at  Newport : 

We  would  meet  at  Narragansett  Avenue  at  1 
P.  M.,  and  all  drive  out  together.  On  reaching  the 
picnic  grounds,  I  had  an  army  of  skirmishers,  iu 


THE  FROTH  AND  DliEGS.  163 

the  way  of  servants,  thrown  out,  to  take  from  each 
carriage  its  contribution  to  the  country  dinner. 
The  band  woukl  strike  up,  and  off  the  whole  party 
Avouhl  fly  in  the  waltz,  while  I  was  directing  the 
icing  of  the  champagne,  and  arranging  the  tables  ; 
all  done  with  marvelous  celerity.  Then  came  my 
hour  of  triumph,  when,  without  giving  the  slightest 
signal  (fearing  some  one  might  forestall  me,  and 
*ake  off  the  prize),  I  would  dash  in  among  the  dan- 
;ers,  secure  our  society  queen,  and  lead  with  her 
;lie  way  to  the  banquet.  Kow  began  the  fun  in 
good  earnest.  The  clever  men  of  the  party  would 
assert  their  claims  to  tlie  best  dishes,  proud  of  the 
efforts  of  their  cook,  loud  in  their  praise  of  their 
own  game  pie,  which  most  probably  was  brought 
out  by  some  third  party,  too  modest  to  assert  and 
push  his  claim.  Beauty  was  there  to  look  upon, 
and  wit  to  enliven  the  feast.  The  wittiest  of  men 
was  then  in  liis  element,  and  I  only  wish  I  dared 
quote  here  his  brilliant  sallies.  The  beauty  of  the 
land  was  also  there,  and  all,  feeling  that  they  v/ere 
on  a  frolic,  threw  hauteur,  ceremonial,  and  grand 
company  manners  aside,  and,  in  place,  assumed  a 
spirit  of  simple  enjoyment.  Toasts  were  given 
and  drunk';  then  a  stroll  in  pairs,  for  a  little  inter- 
change of  sentiment;  and  then  the  whole  party 
made  for  the  dancing  platform,  and  a  cotillion  of 
one  hour  and  a  half  was  danced  till  sunset.  As  at 
a  "  Meet,"  the  arrivals  and  departures  were  a  feat- 
ure of  the  day.     Four-in-hands,  tandems,  and  the 


164  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

swellest  of  Newport  turn-outs  rolled  by  you.  At 
these  eutertainments  you  formed  lifetime  intima- 
cies witli  the  most  cultivated  and  charming  men 
and  women  of  this  country.  . 

These  little  parties  were  then,  and  are  now,  the 
stepping-stones  to  our  best  New  York  society. 
People  who  liave  been  for  years  in  mourning  and 
thus  lost  sight  of,  or  who,  having  passed  their  lives 
abroad,  were  forgotten,  were  again  seen,  admired, 
and  liked,  and  at  once  brought  into  society's  fold. 
Now  do  not  for  a  moment  imagine  that  all  were 
indiscriminately  asked  to  these  little  fetes.  On 
the  contrary,  if  you  were  not  of  the  inner  circle, 
and  were  a  neAvcomer,  it  took  the  combined  efforts 
of  all  your  friends'  backing  and  pushing  to  procure 
an  invitation  for  you.  For  years,  whole  families 
sat  on  tlie  stool  of  probation,  awaiting  trial  and 
acceptance,  and  many  were  then  rejected,  but  once 
received,  you  were  put  on  an  intimate  footing  with 
all. 

From  Newport  we  turn  to  New  York  and 
view  a  banquet  for  seventy-two  persons, 
given  by  a  member  of  this  exclusive  class. 
The  cost  of  this  banquet  was  to  be  ten 
thousand  dollars.  Again  we  quote  Mr. 
McAllister :  — 

Accordingly  he  (the  gentleman  giving  the  ban- 
quet) went  to  Charles  Delmonico,  who  in  turn  went 


THE  FEOTn  AND  DREGS.  165 

to  his  cuisine  elassique  to  see  liow  they  couhl  pos- 
sibly spend  this  sum  on  this  f  e^ist.  Success  crowned 
their  efforts.  The  sum  in  such  skillful  hands  soon 
melted  away,  and  a  banquet  was  given  of  such 
beauty  and  magnificence,  that  even  New  Yorkers, 
accustomed  as  they  were  to  every  species  of  novel 
expenditure,  were  astonished  at  its  lavishness,  its 
luxury.  The  banquet  was  given  at  Delnionico's  in 
Fourteenth  Street, 

There  were  seventy -two  guests  in  the  large  ball- 
room, looking  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Every  inch  of 
the  long,  extended  oval  table  was  covered  with 
flowers,  excepting  a  space  in  the  centre,  left  for  a 
lake,  and  a  border  around  tlie  table  for  the  plates. 
This  lake  was  indeed  a  work  of  art ;  it  was  an 
oval  pond,  thirty  feet  in  length,  by  nearly  the 
width  of  the  table,  inclosed  by  a  delicate  golden 
wire  network,  reaching  from  table  to  ceiling,  mak- 
ing the  whole  one  grand  cage ;  four  superb  swans, 
brought  from  Prospect  Park,  swam  in  it,  sur- 
rounded by  high  banks  of  flowers  of  every  species 
and  variety,  which  prevented  them  from  splashing 
the  water  on  the  table.  There  were  hills  and 
dales ;  the  modest  little  violet  carpeting  the  val- 
leys, and  other  bolder  sorts  climbing  up  and  cover- 
ing the  tops  of  those  miniature  mountains.  Then, 
all  around  the  inclosure,  and  in  fact  above  the 
entire  table,  hung  little  golden  cages,  with  fine 
songsters,  Avho  filled  the  room  with  their  melody, 
occasionally  interrupted  by  the  splashing  of  the 


166  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

waters  of  the  lake  by  the  swans,  and  the  cooing 
of  these  noble  birds,  and  at  one  time  by  a  fierce 
combat  between  these  stately,  graceful,  gliding 
white  creatures.  The  surface  of  the  whole  table, 
by  clever  art,  was  one  unbroken  series  of  undula- 
tions, rising  and  falling  like  the  billows  of  the  sea, 
but  all  clothed  and  carpeted  with  every  form  of 
blossom.  It  seemed  like  the  abode  of  fairies  ;  and 
when  surrounding  this  fairyland  with  lovely 
young  American  womanhood,  you  had  indeed  an 
unequalled  scene  of  enchantment.  But  this  was 
not  to  be  alone  a  feast  for  the  eye ;  all  that  art 
could  do,  all  that  the  cleverest  men  could  devise 
to  spread  before  the  guests  such  a  feast  as  the 
gods  should  enjoy,  Avas  done,  and  so  well  done  that 
all  present  felt,  in  the  way  of  feasting,  that  man 
could  do  no  more !  The  wines  were  perfect. 
Blue  seal  Johannisberg  flowed  like  water.  Incom- 
parable '48  claret,  superb  Burgundies,  and  amber- 
colored  Madeira,  all  were  there  to  add  to  the  intox- 
icating delight  of  the  scene.  Then  soft  music 
stole  over  one's  senses ;  lovely  Avomen's  eyes  spark- 
led with  delight  at  the  beauty  of  their  surround- 
ings, and  I  felt  that  the  fair  being  who  sat  next 
to  me  would  have  graced  Alexander's  feast." 

After  reading  the  above  it  is  well  to  call 
to  mind  tlie  awful  facts  revealed  by  vital 
statistics  in  New  York  during  recent  years. 
Thus  for  example;  out  of  39,070  deaths  in 


THE  FROTn  AND  DREGS.  167 

the  city  in  1889,  7,059  died  in  the  hospit- 
als, insane  asylums,  and  work  houses ; 
more  than  one  person  in  every  six  who 
passed  from  earth  in  our  metropolis,  died 
in  public  institutions ;  three  thousand,  eight 
hundred  and  nineteen  of  those  who  perished 
during  1889  were  thrown  into  the  Potter's 
field,  too  poor  for  decent  burial,  while  in 
the  year  which  ended  Sept.  1st,  1892,  there 
were  29,720  warrants,  for  evictions  issued 
in  New  York.  In  the  presence  of  such 
frightful  facts,  the  heartless  selfishness 
which  characterizes  the  reckless  extrava- 
gance of  the  society  of  which  Mr.  McAllis- 
ter writes,  assumes  criminal  proportions. 
But  this  is  by  no  means  the  only  evil  which 
attends  such  life.  The  very  atmosphere 
cannot  fail  to  stifle  the  highest  nature  in 
man,  to  dwarf,  shrivel,  and  kill  the  true 
ethical  or  spiritual  essence  of  his  being, 
which  instinctively  turns  to  humanity's 
miserables  with  soul  overflowing  with  love ; 
which  ever  shrinks  from  a  mere  selfish, 
butterfly  existence,  as  one  shrinks  from  an 
adder,  knowing  it  will  poison  unto  death 
the  highest  attributes  of  the  soul.     The  fol- 


1  68  CIVIL IZA  TION '  S  INFERNO. 

lowing  extract  well  illustrates  the  blight- 
ing influence  upon  the  individual,  as  well 
as  the  false  idea  of  life  that  such  an  exist- 
ence inculcates.  A  wealthy  friend,  on  sail- 
ing for  Europe,  placed  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter in  charge  of  Mr.  McAllister,  request- 
ing him  to  give  them  a  splendid  ball  at 
Delmonico's,  and  draw  on  him  for  all 
expenses.  But  I  will  let  our  author  tell 
the  story  in  his  own  words. 

I  replied:  "My  dear  fellow,  how  many  joeople 
do  you  know  in  this  city  tvhom  you  could  invite 
to  a  ball  ?  The  funds  you  send  me  will  be  used, 
but  not  in  giving  a  ball."  The  girl  being  a  beauty, 
all  the  rest  was  easy  enough.  I  gave  her  theatre 
party  after  theatre  party,  followed  by  charming 
little  suppers,  asked  to  them  the  jeunesse  doree  of 
the  day ;  took  her  repeatedly  to  the  opera,  and  saw 
that  she  was  always  there  surrounded  by  admirers ; 
incessantly  talked  of  her  fascinations  ;  assured  my 
young  friends  that  she  was  endowed  with  a  fortune 
equal  to  the  mines  of  Ophir,  that  she  danced  like 
a  dream,  and  possessed  all  the  graces,  a  sunbeam 
across  one's  path ;  then  saw  to  it  that  she  had  a 
prominent  place  in  every  cotillion  and  a  fitting 
partner ;  showed  her  whom  to  smile  upon,  and  on 
wliom  to  frown ;  gave  her  the  entree  to  all  the  nice 
houses ;    criticised    severely    her    toilet    until    it 


THE  FROril  AND  DREGS.  1G9 

became  perfect ;  daily  met  her  on  the  avenue  with 
the  most  charming  man  in  town,  who,  by  one  pre- 
text or  another,  I  turned  over  to  her ;  made  her 
the  constant  subject  of  conversation;  insisted  upon 
it  that  she  was  to  be  the  belle  of  the  coming  win- 
ter ;  advised  her  parents  that  she  should  have  her 
first  season  at  Bar  Harbor,  where  she  could  learn 
to  flirt  to  her  heart's  content,  and  -vie  with  other 
girls.  Her  second  summer,  when  she  was  older,  I 
suggested  her  passing  at  Newport,  where  she  should 
have  a  pair  of  ponies,  a  pretty  trap,  with  a  well- 
gotten-up  groom,  and  Worth  to  dress  her." 

Another  significant  illustration  of  the 
artificiality  of  this  existence  and  its  essen- 
tially demoralizing  effect  is  seen  in  the 
7iaive  observation  of  Mr.  McAllister:  — 

The  highest  cultivation  in  social  manners 
enables  a  person  to  conceal  from  the  world  his 
real  feelings.  He  can  go  through  any  annoyance 
as  if  it  Avere  a  pleasure  ;  go  to  a  rival's  house  as  if 
to  a  dear  friend's ;  smile  and  smile,  yet  murder 
while  he  smiles. 

There  is  a  far  graver  aspect  presented 
by  this  butterfly  existence.  Such  a  life  is 
morally  enervating.  Its  tendency  is  down- 
ward. Idleness,  luxury  and  extravagance, 
no  less  than  extreme  poverty  and  degrada- 


170  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 


tion,  breed  and  foster  vice  and  immorality. 
They  who  see  nothing  wrong  in  squander- 
ing vast  sums  of  money  on  princely  ban- 
quets, while  want  is  peering  from  thousands 
of  eyes  within  rifle  shot  of  their  homes, 
have  traveled  far  on  the  downward  path- 
way which  ends  in  moral  obliquity.  The 
very  atmosphere  of  such  a  life  as  Mr. 
McAllister  has  so  graphically  described  is 
permeated  with  a  stygian  spell,  fatal  to  the 
higher  manhood  as  is  opium  destructive  to 
the  moral  nature.  An  impressive  illustra- 
tion of  this  truth  was  witnessed  at  the  ball 
given  in  New  York  early  in  1891,  for  the 
benefit  of  Carmencita,  the  details  of  which 
revealed  the  baleful  effect  of  a  selfish,  sen- 
sual, butterfly  life.  Here  is  a  pen-picture 
of  the  scenes  which  ensued  after  the  hus- 
bands, fathers,  and  brothers  had  escorted 
their  wives,  daughters,  and  sisters  home, 
and  returned  to  the  scene  of  frivolous 
gaiety :  * 

Tlie  real  character  of  the  Carmencita  ball  at 
Madison  Square  Garden  did  not  develop  itself 
until  after  the  procession  had  ended  and  the  news- 

*Neiv  York  Herald. 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  171 

papers  gone  to  press.  Then  fun  began  with  all 
the  abandon  born  of  easy  morals  and  flowing  wine. 

Ladies  and  gentlemen  had  been  there,  but  the 
men  took  their  wives  home  and  returned  to  see  the 
sport ;  the  boxes  they  had  previously  occupied  with 
decoruvi,  noiv  became  the  rendezvous  for  the  liveliest 
women  in  toivn. 

Masks  were  thrown  aside  regardless  of  conse- 
quences—  the  women  were  only  too  glad  to  be  rec- 
ognized, and  the  men  were  reckless  of  their 
reputation. 

Nearly  every  important  social  club  had  a,  head- 
quarters;  the  Union,  New  York,  Knickerbocker, 
Calumet,  St.  Nicholas,  and  Manhattan  men  holding 
levees  in  one  or  more  boxes. 

Picture,  if  you  can,  half  a  dozen  leaders  of  the 
german,  j^oseurs  of  grace  and  dignity  at  the  win- 
dows of  the  Fifth  Avenue  clubs,  joining  hands  in 
a  circle,  jumping  up  and  down  like  wild  Sioux  in 
a  ghost  dance,  shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices 
and  perspiring  like  hod-carriers ;  the  centre  of  their 
saltatorial  efforts  being  a  bright-eyed  blonde,  kick- 
ing first  the  eyeglasses  from  a  near-sighted  fellow's 
face,  and  then  toeing  a  hole  in  the  crown  of  a  tall 
silk  hat  upheld  higher  than  her  head. 

It  was  a  devil's  carnival. 

Round  and  round  the  great  amphitheatre  swirled 
the  throng  in  the  most  energetic  and  indefinable 
manner  of  locomotion. 

There  is  a  dance  much  affected  by  society  called 


172  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

the  "  York,"  in  which  a  couple  lock  arms  and  move 
forward  as  though  promenading,  although  at  inter- 
vals there  is  a  skipping  step  or  two  and  then  a 
waltz. 

The  "  York  "  was  very  popular  at  the  Carmencita 
ball.  But  the  couples  did  not  lock  arms.  The  lady 
placed  her  bare  white  arm  aa-ound  the  neck  of  her 
partner;  he  with  one  arm  encircled  her  waist. 
With  the  disengaged  hand  the  siren  upheld  her 
skirts.  Instead  of  Avalking  forward  sedately,  they 
rushed  at  running  speed,  both  kicking  their  heels 
in  the  air,  knocking  down  any  one  encountered, 
and  then,  when  united  for  the  Avaltz,  her  feet  mak- 
ing circles  in  the  air  within  a  radius  not  confined 
to  less  than  a  yard  above  the  floor. 

The  formality  of  an  introduction  was  religiously 
observed,  however,  in  the  boxes. 

"Mr.  Smith  allow  me  to  present  you  to  Mrs. 
Brown." 

These  were  the  modes  of  presentation,  and  the 
Smiths  and  Browns,  all  ordered  champagne  at  five 
dollars  a  bottle,  and  drank  it,  usually  breaking 
the  glasses  by  way  of  disregard  for  the  cost. 

The  bottle  was  passed  around  without  glasses 
once  in  a  while,  having  been  first  sweetened  by 
amber-tinted  lips  that  had  just  held  a  cigarette, 
whose  ashes  would  nestle  somewhere  above  the 
corsage  of  the  damsel  who  had  smoked  it.  Jew- 
els of  rare  value  glistened  on  the  necks  and  arms 
of  those  gay  but  naughty  fairies ;  the  dresses  were 


THE  FROTH  ANB  DREGS.  173 

from  Worth  Street,  perhaps,  but  made  of  the  cost- 
liest materiaLs  and  in  the  most  becoming  style 
and  perfect  fit. 

Silk  hosiery  and  satin  slippers,  some  edged 
with  gold  lace,  in  colors  to  match  the  dress,  were 
the  invariable  rule. 

An  incident  of  delightful  originality  was  that 
afforded  by  the  lady  in  the  right-hand  second-row 
box  who  insisted  with  some  opposition  and  much 
encouragement  in  balancing  upon  her  nose  a  cham- 
pagne glass  filled  with  the  "sparkling  cider"  so 
freely  dispensed  at  six  dollars  a  bottle. 

Just  as  she  had  succeeded  in  her  attempt  the 
glass  tipped  forward,  and  the  lady's  shoulders  were 
bathed  in  wine. 

At  the  same  time  she  accused  her  escort  of  push- 
ing her,  and  soundly  boxed  his  ears. 

The  ball  ended  at  half  past  four  o'clock. 

Another  journal  thus  gives  some  details 
of  this  disgraceful  scene :  * 

That  "  sparkling  cider "  didn't  begin  to  make 
its  presence  felt  till  the  big  hands  had  gone  about 
the  dial  at  least  three  times.  Then  the  fun  began, 
fast. and  furious.  It  galloped  along  between  three 
and  four  o'clock  A.  M.  at  a  pace  that  a  jockey  would 
have  given  his  life  almost  to  rival.  Every  man 
started  out  from  the  post  with  a  pooket-book  and  a, 

*^Yefo  York  Jlemld, 


174  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

girl.  There  was  plenty  of  "  sparkling  older "  in 
the  lockers,'  and  so  it  was  only  a  question  of  the 
pocket-book.  And  yet,  after  all,  did  lie  who  had 
the  fattest  wallet  have  the  most  sport  ?  Perhaps 
the  wide-awake  newspaper  man,  who  had  to  keep 
his  brain  and  his  eyes  bright,  saw  as  much  of  the 
humorous,  pathetic,  revolting,  or  enjoyable  that 
was  going  on  as  any  one. 

The  reporter  saw  a  pretty  young  girl,  who  had 
never  seen  more  than  one  season  pass  by  her 
eyes  in  this  city,  lying  hopelessly  drunk,  obliv- 
ious, in  an  ante-room.  He  saw  there,  also,  painted 
faces,  fat  necks,  half-shut  eyes,  showing  from  pri- 
vate boxes.  They  were  the  histories  of  what  the 
fair-haired,  fair-complexioned  girl  lying  helpless 
in  the  ante-room  was  the  prophecy.  As  they 
glanced  down  from  under  their  heavy-lidded  eyes, 
how  it  must  have  recalled  to  them  the  old-time 
carnivals  of  which  this  dance,  bold  and  hilarious 
as  it  was,  was  but  a  reminiscence.  Did  they  stop 
to  think  ? 

He  saw,  too,  a  gray-haired,  gray-mustached  citi- 
zen, whom  everybody  knows  about  the  Stock 
Exchange,  seated  in  a  dimly  lighted  box,  which  the 
curtains  protected  with  a  friendly  shadow,  between 
two  women  from  a  side  street,  as  well  known  as  his 
own  name,  with  an  arm  about  the  neck  of  one  girl 
and  another  about  the  neck  of  a  bottle  of  that 
<'  sparkling  cider."  There,  hours  before,  he  had  sat 
erect;  blasc;  eminently  proper,  in  the  ganie  box, 


THE  FHOTTI  AND  DEEGS.  175 

with  a  haughty,  brown-haired,  fur-enwrapped  wo- 
man beside  him.  She  had,  after  a  few  moments, 
thrown  her  furs  aside,  for  the  heat  was  intense. 
Half  disdainfully,  with  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
an  amused  smile  wreathing  her  lips,  she  had 
watched  Carmeneita's  entry  with  her  Spanish  camp 
followers;  watched  Carmencita  sway  and  bend  in 
the  dance  she  went  through  on  the  dais  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  Garden  ;  watched  the  proem  to  the  juice- 
of-the-grape-enlivened  carnival  that  was  just  being 
born.  She  was  his  wife,  and  about  midnight  she 
had  gone  away.  Did  she  wish  him  to  go  away  with 
her  ?     Didn't  she  care  ? 

The  young  girl,  Avhose  brilliant  cheeks  and  well- 
filled  figure  proclaimed  her  the  country  girl,  lay 
in  the  ante-room,  oblivious  of  the  noise  around  her. 
They  carried  her  away  finally.  Darwin  once  pro- 
nounced something  to  the  world  about  the  survival 
of  the  fittest.  Perhaps  twenty  years  from  now 
she  may  be  sitting,  rouged,  be-wigged,  with  a  heart 
of  flint,  watching  through  a  long-handled  tortoise- 
shell  lorgnette  her  of  the  gazelle  feet  who  may 
be  the  favorite  of  the  hour  then.  Perhaps,  Iioav- 
ever,  she  may  be  sleeping  in  the  Potter's  Pield. 

Turning  away  from  the  boxes  and  the  anterooms, 
the  reporter  saw  the  scenes  enacted  that  made 
Carmeneita's  ball  the  thing  most  talked  of  yester- 
day. The  French  ball  was  an  abandoned  riot  in 
2Josse.  Carmeneita's  was,  after  three  o'clock,  a  bac- 
chanalian festival  injMJsse.    Young  girls  were  there, 


176  CIVILIZATION' S  IN  FEE  NO. 

one  of  whose  legs  was  uplifted  in  tlie  air  precisely 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  from  the  one  on 
the  floor,  on  which  they  poised  themselves ; 
and  all  around  them  gathered  intimate  circles  of 
men,  from  beardless  youths  to  bearded  brokers, 
who  clapped,  applauded,  egged  them  on  to  still 
higher  attainment.  Wine  flowed,  the  music 
breathed  soft,  seductive  strains,  hands  clapped, 
men  cheered,  and  the  ball  went  on- 

Here  we  have  extra, vagaiice  blended  with 
sensualism;  money  flows  as  does  the  cham- 
pagne ;  manhood  is  eclipsed ;  the  bestial  tri- 
umphs over  unclouded  reason.  No  society 
dwelling  in  a  healthful  atmosphere  could 
so  debase  itself;  manhood  accustomed  to 
pure  thinking,  upright  and  honest  living, 
could  never  sink  to  such  depths  of  debauch- 
ery. And,  aside  from  the  debasement  of 
manhood,  the  sullying  of  soul,  the  evil 
influence  and  the  criminal  extravagance, 
there  looms  up  a  criuie  which  is  still  graver 
and  more  far-reaching  than  squandering 
wealth  to  feed  the  flres  of  bestiality,  the 
crirtie  CKjainst  the  miborn.  The  father's 
sensuality  will  stain  tlie  soul,  fire  the  pas- 
sions, and  poison  the  mind  of  his  offspring, 
no  matter  how  piux;  in  thought,  how  chaste 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  177 

in  life,  how  holy  in  impulse  the  wife.  The 
men  who  from  their  homes  of  wealth  and 
luxury  returned  to  Madison  Square  Garden 
that  Friday  night  to  drink  champagne  with 
the  courtesans  of  the  town,  many  of  whom 
doubtless  they  themselves  had  lured  from 
virtue's  paths,  will  transmit  a  curse  to  their 
children  more  subtle,  yet  more  deadly,  than 
the  all-dreaded  leprosy  —  a  curse  summed  up 
in  the  frightful  w^ords,  "  leprosy  of  the  soul.'' 

Such  are  the  inevitable  results  of  a  career 
of  selfish  indulgence  fostered  by  such  a  life 
as  Mr.  McAllister  extols,  and,  while  his 
exclusive  set  may  not  have  been  repre- 
sented, or  at  least  been  conspicuous  in  the 
bacchanalian  revelry  described  above,  this 
criminally  frivolous  life  at  the  social  ze- 
nith enervates  manhood  and  sends  forth 
a  death-germinating  miasma,  fatal  alike 
to  good  morals  and  high  thinking. 

In  speaking  of  the  Patriarchs'  balls 
which  are  such  a  feature  of  society  life 
among  the  "four  hundred,"  Mr.  McAllister 
describes  how  he  fought  for  and  secured 
entertainments  of  the  most  luxurious  and 
expensive  character  possible.     "We  must 


178  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

spare  no  expense  to  make  them  a  credit  to 
us  and  to  the  great  city  in  which  they  are 
given."  A  credit  to  squander  money, 
while  thousands  in  the  compass  of  New 
York  are  slowly  starving  for  the  lack  of 
money  to  buy  the  food  the  system  craves ! 
But  our  author  continues :  — 

The  social  life  of  a  great  part  of  our  commun- 
ity, in  my  opinion,  hinges  on  this  and  similar 
organizations,  for  it  and  they  are  organized  social 
power,  capable  of  giving  a  passport  to  society  to 
all  worthy  of  it. 

And  now  let  us  see  a  typical  man  of  this 
mad,  gay  world:  — 

I  must  here  give  a  slight  sketch  of  one  of  the 
handsomest,  most  fascinating,  most  polished,  and 
courteous  gentlemen  of  that  or  any  other  period- 
We  will  here  call  him  the  Major  ;  amiability  itself, 
a  man  both  sexes  could  fall  in  love  with.  I  loved 
him  dearly,  and  when  I  lost  him  I  felt  much  of  the 
charm  of  life  had  departed  with  him.  At  all  tliese 
country  parties,  he  was  always  first  and  foremost. 
My  rapidity  of  thought  and  action  always  annoyed 
him.  "  My  dear  fellow,"  he  would  say,  "  for  heav- 
en's sake,  go  slow  ;  you  tear  through  the  streets  as 
if  at  some  one's  bidding.  A  gentleman  should 
stroll  leisurely,  casting  his  eyes  in  the  shop  win 


THE  FROTIt  AND  DREGS.  179 

dows,  as  if  in  search  of  amusement,  while  you  go 
at  a  killing  pace,  as  if  on  business  bent.  The  man 
of  fashion  should  have  no  business."  Again,  he 
had  a  holy  horror  of  familiar  garments.  "  My 
dear  boy,"  he  would  smile  and  say,  ''when  will  you 
discard  that  old  coat  ?  I  am  so  familiar  with  it, 
I  am  fatigued  at  the  sight  of  it." 

On  one  subject  we  Avere  always  in  accord  — 
our  admiration  for  women.  My  eye  was  quicker 
than  his,  and  I  often  took  advantage  of  it.  I 
would  say,  "  Major,  did  you  see  that  beauty  ? 
By  Jove,  a  most  delicious  creature  ! "  "  Who  ? 
Where  ?  "  he  would  exclaim.  '^  Why,  man ! "  I 
replied,  "  she  has  passed  you ;  you  have  lost  her." 
"  Lost  her !  How  could  you  let  that  happen  ? 
Why,  why  did  you  not  sooner  call  my  attention  to 
her  ?  " 

From  this  pitiful  picture  of  life  that  is 
worse  than  a  failure  —  of  the  froth  on  hu- 
manity's bosom,  where  riches  are  squandered 
while  manhood  is  enervated;  where  the 
noblest  ideals  are  eclipsed  by  life  devoted 
to  the  gratification  of  the  "  lust  of  the  eye, 
the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  pride  of  life," 
we  turn  to  view  another  phase  of  our  civili- 
zation. In  his  "Darkest  England,"  Ave 
have  a  vivid  picture  of  society  as  General 
Booth  has  found  it.     Here  a  colossal  figure 


180  CIVILIZATION'S  mFfJRNO. 

looms  up  in  a  world  of  darkness;  a  voice 
comes  from  the  brink  of  tlie  abyss  and 
speaks  in  tones  that  ring  around  the  globe 
—  a  clarion  voice,  pleading  in  the  name  of 
humanity  for  the  submerged  millions.  On 
the  verge  of  the  social  pit  the  eye  of  the 
spectator  dilates  with  horror;  the  voice  is 
hushed;  the  heart  sickens.  As  one  descends 
it  grows  darker.  Here  society  exists  in 
strata. 

In  London  alone  there  are  more  than 
three  hundred  thousand  persons  on  the 
very  brink  of  the  abyss,  whose  every 
heart-beat  thrills  with  fear,  whose  life- 
long nightmare  is  the  dread  that  the 
little  den  they  call  home  may  be  taken 
from  them.  Beneath  them,  at  the  door  of 
starvation,  are  over  two  hundred  thousand 
human  lives;  still  further  down  we  find 
three  hundred  thousand  in  the  stratum  of  the 
starving,  in  the  realm  where  hunger  gnaws 
night  and  day,  where  every  second  of  every 
minute,  of  every  hour  of  every  day,  is 
crowded  with  agony.  Below  the  starving 
are  the  homeless  —  they  who  have  nothing 
with  which  to  procure  a  lodging  even  in 


THE  FBOTII  AND  DREGS.  181 

tlie  worst  quarters ;  they  who  sleep  with- 
out shelter  the  year  round,  hundreds  of 
whom  may  be  found  any  night  on  the  cold 
stone  slabs  along  the  Thames  enbankment. 
Some  have  a  newspaper  between  them- 
selves and  the  damp  stones,  but  the  major- 
ity do  not  even  enjoy  this  luxury!  This 
army  of  absolutely  homeless  in  London 
numbers  thirty-three  thousand. 

Below  these  hells  we  find  others  still 
more  terrible — the  hells  of  vice  and  crime. 
In  Great  Britain  alone  there  are  one  hun- 
dred thousand  prostitutes,  and  General 
Booth  estimates  at  least  a  hundred  thou- 
sand more  very  poor  women  whom  poverty 
has  driven  to  secretly  increase  their  earn- 
ings by  their  shame. 

There  are  twenty-two  thousand  juvenile 
thieves.  There  are  thirty-two  thousand, 
nine  hundred  and  ten  reputed  thieves  out 
of  prison,  and  thirty-two  thousand  in  jail. 
There  are  half  a  million  drunkards  in 
Great  Britain.  The  court  record  for  a 
single  year  showed  the  conviction  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  drunkards. 
It  is  estimated  that  sixty  thousand  drunk- 


182  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

ards  annually  die  in  the  United  Kingdom. 
Below  these  hells  are  others  where  all  light 
has  vanished,  where  we  hear  naught  but 
the  confused  roar  of  angry  brutes,  madly, 
blindly  seeking  wliom  they  may  destroy. 
Then  we  have  the  public  institutions,  laden 
with  the  miserables.  According  to  the 
official  reports  of  the  Register-General,  one 
person  in  every  five  in  London  dies  in  the 
workhouse,  the  liospital,  or  the  lunatic 
asylum.  In  1887,  there  were  eighty-two 
thousand,  five  hundred  and  forty-five  deaths 
in  London.  Of  these  seventeen  thousand 
perished  in  public  institutions. 

Such  are  the  rugged  outlines  presented 
by  this  world  at  the  social  nadir;  such  the 
general  aspects  as,  from  the  verge  of  the 
abyss,  one's  eyes  wander  down  the  strata 
extending  from  the  honest,  industrious  poor, 
to  the  hopelessly  depraved.  This  is  the 
world  of  which  General  Booth  writes  and 
in  which  he  has  already  accomplished 
much . 

In  order  to  gain  a  clearer  idea  of  this 
life,  it  is  necessary  to  notice  a  few  typical 
cases.     We  have  just  examined  the  sketch 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  183 

drawn  by  Mr.  McAllister  of  a  typical  life 
in  this  butterfly  world;  let  us  now  squarely 
face  life  in  the  abyss.  That  we  may  bet- 
ter know  this  world,  we  must  approach  it. 
From  a  distance  the  scene  startles  and 
stao-frers  the  mind.  A  closer  examination 
touches  the  heart.  He  who  would  fathom 
its  misery  must  look  upon  individual 
scenes  and  cases  which  are  strictly  typical. 
In  this  manner  the  truth  is  brought  home 
—  what  before  was  merely  seen  is  now  felt, 
and  the  tragic  aspects  of  the  life  of  the  sub- 
merged iTxillions  is  sensibly  appreciated. 
Let  us,  then,  glance  at  some  typical  aspects 
of  life  in  this  grim  region.  The  following 
picture  would  form  a  striking  background 
for  a  setting,  showing  the  ten-thousand- 
dollar  banquet  at  Delmonico's,  so  felicit- 
ously described  by  Mr.  McAllister.  It  is 
taken  from  the  record  of  one  of  General 
Booth's  most  trusted  officers,  who  was  sent 
to  investigate  the  actual  condition  of  the 
homeless  poor  in  one  portion  of  London. 

Just  as  big  Ben  strikes  two,  the  moon,  flashing 
across  the  Thames  and  lighting  np  the  stone- 
work  of   the    embankment,  brings    into   relief   a 


184  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

pitiable  spectacle.  Here  on  the  stone  abutments, 
which  afford  a  slight  protection  from  the  biting 
wind,  are  scores  of  men,  lying  side  by  side,  hud- 
dled together  for  warmth,  and,  of  course,  without 
any  other  covering  tlian  tlieir  ordinary  clothing, 
which  is  scanty  enough  at  the  best.  Some  have 
laid  down  a  few  pieces  of  Avaste  paper,  by  way  of 
taking  tlie  chill  off  the  stones,  but  the  majority 
are  too  tired  even  for  that. 

General  Booth's  officer  interviewed  these 
homeless  ones,  three  hundred  and  sixty  of 
whom  he  found,  one  night,  sleeping  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames,  between  Blackfriar's 
and  Westminster.  We  will  select  a  few 
cases : 

No.  1.  I've  slept  here  two  nights.  I'm  a  con- 
fectioner by  trade.  I  came  from  Dartford.  I  got 
turned  off  because  I'm  getting  elderly.  They  can 
get  young  men  cheaper,  and  I  have  the  rheuma- 
tism so  bad.  I've  earned  nothing  these  two  days. 
I  thought  I  coiUd  get  a  job  at  Woolwich,  so  I 
walked  there,  but  could  get  nothing.  I  found  a 
bit  of  bread  in  the  road,  wrapped  up  in  a  bit  of 
newspaper;  that  did  me  for  yesterday.  I  had  a 
bil  of  bread  and  butter  to-day.  I'm  fifty-four 
years  old.  When  it's  wet,  we  stand  about  all 
night,  under  the  arches. 

No.   2.     I'm   a   tailor.     Have    slept    here    four 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  185 

nights  running.  Can't  get  work.  Been  out  of  a 
job  three  weeks.  It  was  very  wet  last  night.  I 
left  these  seats,  and  went  to  Covent  Garden  Mar- 
ket, and  slept  under  cover.  There  were  about 
thirty  of  us.  The  policS  moved  us  on,  but  we 
went  back  as  soon  as  they  had  gone.  I've  had  a 
pen'worth  of  bread  and  pen'worth  of  soup  during 
the  last  two  days,  —  often  go  without  altogether. 
There  are  women  sleep  out  here.  They  are  decent 
people,  mostly  charwomen  and  such  like,  avIio 
can't  get  work. 

No.  3.  Elderly  man ;  trembles  visibly  with 
excitement  at  mention  of  work ;  produces  a  card, 
carefully  wrapped  in  old  newspaper,  to  the  effect 
that  Mr.  J.  11.  is  a  member  of  the  Trade  Protec- 
tion League.  He  is  a  waterside  laborer.  Last 
job  at  that  was  a  fortnight  since.  Has  earned 
nothing  for  five  days.  Had  a  bit  of  bread  this 
morning,  but  not  a  scrap  since.  Had  a  cup  of  tea, 
and  two  slices  of  bread  yesterday,  and  the  same 
the  day  before.  The  deputy  at  a  lodging-liouse 
gave  it  to  him.  He  is  fifty  years  old,  and  is 
still  damp  from  sleeping  out  in  the  wet  last 
night. 

No.  4.  Been  out  of  work  a  month.  Carman  by 
trade.  Arm  withered,  and  cannot  do  work  prop- 
erly. Has  slept  here  all  the  week.  Got  an  awful 
cold  through  the  wet.  Lives  at  odd  jobs  [They  all 
do.]  Got  sixpence  yesterday  for  minding  a  cab, 
and  carrying  a  couple  of  parcels.     Earned  nothing 


186  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

to-day.     Has  been  walking  about  all  day,  looking 
for  work,  and  is  tired  out. 

No.  5.  Youth,  aged  sixteen.  Sad  case.  Lon- 
doner. Works  at  odd  jobs,  and  at  match  selling. 
He  has  taken  3d.  to-day ;  i.  e.,  net  profit,  l^d. 
Has  five  boxes  still.  Has  slept  here  every  night 
for  a  month.  Before  that,  slept  in  Covent  Gar- 
den Market,  or  on  doorsteps.  Been  sleeping  out 
six  months.  Has  had  one  bit  of  bread  to-day : 
yesterday  had  only  some  gooseberries  and  cherries, 
i.  e.,  bad  ones  that  had  been  thrown  away.  Mother 
is  alive.  She  "  chucked  him  out,"  when  he  re- 
turned home  on  leaving  Feltham,  because  he 
couldn't  find  her  money  for  drink. 

These  are  fairly  typical  cases,  writes 
General  Booth,  of  the  army  of  nomads, 
Avho  are  wandering  homeless  through  the 
streets,  and  he  continues :  — 

Work,  work !  it  is  always  work  they  ask. 
The  divine  curse  is  to  them  the  most  blessed  of 
benedictions.  'In  tlie  sweat  of  thy  brow  thou 
shalt  eat  tliy  bread,'  but  alas  for  these  forlorn  sons 
of  Adam  !  they  fail  to  find  the  bread  to  eat,  for 
society  has  no  work  for  them  to  do.  They  have 
not  even  leave  to  sweat.  Most  of  them  now  do 
more  exhausting  work  in  seeking  for  employment 
than  tlie   regular  toilers   do  in  their  workshops. 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  187 

and  do   it  under  the   darkness  of   hope  deferred 
whieli  maketh  the  heart  sick. 

Below  this  tier  of  the  homeless  who  have 
hope,  looms  up  the  despairing  multitude, 
they  who  battle  until  body  fails  and  brain 
reels ;  they  who,  confronted  by  the  spectre 
of  crime  and  the  spectre  of  death,  hear  the 
voice  of  fate  cry  "Choose !"  Here  is  a  typical 
case  : 

A  short  time  ago  a  respectable  man,  a  chemist, 
in  Holloway,  fifty  years  of  age,  driven  hard  to  the 
wall,  tried  to  end  it  all  by  cutting  his  throat. 
His  wife  also  cut  her  throat,  and  at  the  same  time 
they  gave  strychnine  to  their  only  child.  The 
effort  failed,  and  they  were  placed  on  trial  for 
attempted  murder.  In  the  Court,  a  letter  was 
read  which  the  poor  wretch  had  Avritten  before 
attempting  his  life  : — 

"  My  dearest  George :  —  Twelve  months  have  I 
now  passed  of  a  most  miserable  and  struggling 
existence,  and  I  really  cannot  stand  it  any  more. 
I  am  completely  worn  out,  and  relations  who 
could  assist  me  won't  do  any  more,  for  such 
was  uncle's  last  intimation.  He  never  inquires 
whether  I  am  starving  or  not.  Three  pounds,  — 
a  mere  flea  bite  to  him  —  would  have  put  us 
straight,  and  with  his  security  and  good  interest 
might  have  obtained  me  a  good  situation  long  ago. 


188  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

I  can  face  poverty  and  degradation  no  longer,  and 
would  sooner  die  than  go  to  the  workhouse,  what- 
ever may  be  the  awful  consequences  of  the  steps 
we  have  taken.  We  have,  God  forgive  us !  taken 
our  darling  Arty  with  us,  out  of  pure  love  and 
affection,  so  that  the  darling  should  never  be 
cuffed  about,  or  reminded  or  taunted  with  his 
heart-broken  parents,'  crime.  My  poor  wife  has 
done  her  best  at  needle-work,  washing,  house- 
minding,  etc.,  in  fact,  anything  and  everything 
that  would  bring  in  a  shilling ;  but  it  would  only 
keep  us  in  semi-starvation.  I  have  now  done  six 
weeks'  travelling  from  morning  till  night,  and  not 
received  one  farthing  for  it.  If  that  is  not 
enough  to  drive  you  mad,  —  wickedly  mad,  —  I 
don't  know  what  is.  No  briglit  prospect  any- 
where ;  no  ray  of  hope.  May  God  Almighty  for- 
give us  for  this  heinous  sin,  and  have  mercy  on 
our  sinful  souls,  is  the  prayer  of  your  miserable, 
broken-hearted,  but  loving  brother,  Arthur.  "We 
have  noAv  done  everything  that  we  can  possibly 
think  of  to  avert  this  wicked  proceeding,  but  can 
discover  no  ray  of  ^  hope.  Fervent  prayer  has 
availed  us  nothing ;  our  lot  is  cast,  and  we  must 
abide  by  it.  It  must  be  God's  will,  or  He  would 
have  ordained  it  differently.  Dearest  Georgy,  I 
am  exceedingly  sorry  to  leave  you  all,  but  I  am 
mad,  —  thoroughly.  You,  dear,  must  try  and  for- 
get us,  and,  if  possible,  forgive  us ;  for  I  do  not 
consider  it  our  fault  we  have  not  succeeded.     If 


THE  FROTH  AND  DREGS.  189 

5^ou  could  get  three  pounds  for  our  bed,  it  will 
pay  our  rent,  and  our  scanty  furniture  may  fetch 
enough  to  bury  us  in  a  cheap  way. 

"  Don't  grieve  over  us  or  follow  us,  for  Ave  shall 
not  be  worthy  of  such  respect.  Our  clergyman 
has  never  called  on  us  or  given  us  the  least  conso- 
lation, though  I  called  on  him  a  month  ago.  He 
is  paid  to  preach,  and  there  he  considers  his 
responsibility  ends,  the  rich  excepted.  We  have 
only  yourself  and  a  very  few  others  who  care  one 
pin  what  becomes  of  us ;  but  you  must  try  and 
forgive  us,  is  the  last  fervent  prayer  of  your 
devotedly  fond  and  affectionate,  but  broken-hearted 
and  persecuted  brother. 

[Signed]  R.  A.  0 ., 

This  is  an  authentic  human  document,  a  tran- 
script from  the  life  of  one  among  thousands  Avho 
go  down  inarticulate  into  the  depths.  They  die 
and  make  no  sign,  or,  worse  still,  they  continue  to 
exist,  carrying  about  Avith  them,  year  after  year, 
the  bitter  ashes  of  a  life  from  Avhich  the  furnace 
of  misfortune  has  burnt  aAvay  all  joy,  hope,  and 
strength. 

Then  we  have  the  vicious  —  a  world  so 
terrible  that  one  sickens  as  he  explores  it; 
a  world  into  which  the  vast  majority  have 
been  forced  by  the  selfishness  and  brutality 
of  our  present  civilization — the  inhumanity 
of  man. 


190  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEBNO. 

In  a  preceding  chapter  we  caught  a 
glimpse  of  life  in  the  sub-cellar,  and  will 
not  further  penetrate  the  hell  of  vice 
and  crime  into  which  the  vast  majority 
of  those  in  the  upper  stratum,  who  do 
not  perish  in  the  battle  for  bread,  ulti- 
mately sink;  my  present  purpose  being 
to  place  in  antithesis,  the  idle  rich,  and 
the  starving  poor,  and  by  typical  illus- 
trations, lead  men  and  women  to  thinJc. 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A 
VISION. 


m 


Is  it  well  that  while  we  range  with  Science,  glorying  in  the 

Time, 
City  cliildren  soak  and  blacken  soul  and  sense  in  city  slime  ! 
There  among  the  glooming  alleys  Progress  halts  on  palsied 

feet, 
Crime  and  hunger  cast  our  maidens  by  the  thousand  on  the 

street. 
There  the  Master  scrimps  his  haggard  sempstress  of  her  daily 

bread. 
There  a  single  sordid  attic  holds  the  living  and  the  dead. 
There  the  smouldering  fire  of  fever  creeps  across  the  rotted 

floor 
And  the  crowded  couch  of  incest  in  the  warrens  of  the  poor. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

For  Truth  and  Right  we  plead,  and  light  for  crying  Human 

need  ; 
For  wingless  angels  here  in  sight  and   famished  earth  we 

plead. 
Columbia,  not  Jerusalem  ;  for  life  this  side  the  grave  ; 
We  kneel  to  touch  the  garment's  hem  of  Him  who  died  to 

save. 
Ring  out,  ring  out  the  fervent  cry,  "Man's  needs  are  God's 

commands  " ; 
And  putting  strife  forever  by,  unite  with  hearts  and  hands  — 
To  free  the  wage-slave  ;  and  —  released  —  the  Eden  usher  in. 
Where  each  true  heart  is  holy  priest  :  and  each  true  man  is 

King. 

Rev,  George  Vaughan. 


192 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         193 


VII. 

A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A  VISION. 

Social  contrasts  in  Boston  —  Palaces  and  people  in  the  Back 
Bay —  "Wealth  whicli  might  transform  the  slums  —  Ban- 
quets whose  cost  would  relieve  the  misery  of  hundreds 
of  families  —  The  slums  of  the  West  End  —  A  Pathetic 
incident  —  The  details  of  three  grim  tragedies  —  The 
slums  of  the  North  End  —  Typical  cases  —  A  vision. 

PERHAPS  there  is  no  more  effective 
method  of  awakening  the  sleeping 
consciences  of  our  people  to  a  realization  of 
the  essential  immorality  and  injustice  of 
present  social  conditions,  than  hy  present- 
ing some  striking  contrasts,  oUch  as  may 
be  witnessed  by  any  one  living  in  our 
great  cities,  but  which  are  usually  over- 
looked in  an  age  of  fierce  competition  and 
ceaseless  battle  for  gold.  It  is  my  purpose 
to  give  as  simply  as  possible  the  story  of 
an  afternoon's  pilgrimage  recently  taken 
through  two  commonwealths  within  the 
borders  of  Boston. 


194  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

It  was  a  cold,  clear,  crisp  January  after- 
noon. I  left  my  office  at  one  o'clock. 
Passing  in  front  of  the  massive  library 
building  and  the  magnificent  New  Old 
South  Church,  one  of  the  most  imposing 
temples  in  our  city,  dedicated  to  the  wor- 
ship of  the  humble  Son  of  Man,  I  turned 
down  Boylston  Street.  On  my  left  was 
the  unpretentious  Second  Unitarian  Church; 
on  my  right,  across  Copley  Square,  stood 
the  showy  and  somewhat  pretentious  Back 
Bay  Museum ;  almost  directly  in  front  rose 
that  magnificent  model  of  church  architect- 
ure, Trinity,  the  pride  of  New  England, 
and  a  church  whose  pewholders  are  worth 
many  millions  of  dollars.  On  reaching 
Clarendon  Street  I  turned  toward  the  heart 
of  the  Back  Bay,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I 
had  passed  the  Commonwealth  Avenue 
Baptist  Church,  whose  heaven-piercing  spire 
is  ornamented  with  angels  holding  golden 
trumpets  to  their  mouths,  presumably  pro- 
claiming "  Peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to 
men."  The  human  eye  loves  the  beautiful; 
and  yielding  to  the  natural  temptation,  I 
swept  the  broad  avenue  from  the  Public 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         195 

Garden  to  the  Back  Bay  Park.  Through 
the  leafless  trees  I  saw  on  either  side  a  wall 
of  splendid  palaces.  No  cottages  or  hovels 
offended  the  eye  of  wealth.  Here  dwell 
scores  of  men  who,  without  seriously  feel- 
ing the  expense,  could  transform  the  slums 
of  Boston  by  erecting  model  apartment 
houses  after  the  manner  employed  so  wisely 
l)y  George  Peabody  in  London ;  while  in  so 
doing  they  would  lessen  crime,  raise  the 
average  morality,  and  make  life,  for  thou- 
sands of  their  fellow-men,  mean  something 
far  more  than  a  mere  hopeless  and  savage 
struggle  on  the  animal  plane.  Slowly  mov- 
ing toward  the  Public  Garden,  I  passed 
more  than  one  home  where  live  wealth's 
favored  sons,  who,  without  making  a  per- 
ceptible inroad  upon  their  accumulations, 
could  give  to  our  Commonwealth  a  great 
industrial  home,  ecjuipped  and  ready  to 
receive  and  transform  the  children  of  the 
slums,  who  are  orphans  or  worse  than 
orphans,  and  who  are  now,  month  by  month, 
being  swept  with  irresistible  power  into  the 
vortex  of  crime  destined  to  curse  the  society 
of  to-morrow  and  generations  yet  unborn  — 


196  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

cliildren  who  are  cursed  at  birth  and  by 
environment,  but  Avho  would,  nevertheless, 
become  useful  members  of  society,  if  placed 
in  an  institution  where  they  would  feel  the 
elevating  influence  of  love  and  the  refine- 
ment of  culture,  and  where  they  would  be 
taught  to  completely  master  at  least  two 
trades,  while  their  minds  and  souls  were 
being  trained  by  intellectual  and  moral 
culture. 

With  these  thoughts  in  mind  I  slowly 
approached  Arlington  Street.  Among  the 
carriages  which  passed  me,  my  attention 
was  particularly  attracted  to  one  bearing 
a  coat-of-arms,  and  wdiose  driver  was 
in  full  livery.  The  very  horses  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  were  aristocratic  animals,  as 
with  sleek  coats  and  arched  necks  they 
pranced  by.  Within  this  carriage  sat  two 
ladies,  but  I  saw  no  marks  of  content  on 
their  faces;  rather,  a  worn,  wearied,  anxious, 
and  dissatisfied  expression.  They  were 
evidently  surrounded  by  the  luxury  which 
wealth  gives,  and  they  probably  spend  their 
summers  abroad,  mingling  with  the  fash- 
ionable  devotees  of   the  decaying  aristoc- 


A  PILGIUMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         197 

racies  of  the  Old  World;  for  the  arms 
emblazoned  on  the  carriage  spoke  of  an 
attempt  to  ape  foreign  custom  and  a  con- 
tempt for  republican  simplicity.  Wealth 
apparently  gave  them  what  gold  could 
bestow,  but  it  evidently  had  not  given 
the  priceless  pearl  of  life,  the  serenity  of 
soul  which  comes  alone  from  living  for 
others.  This  led  me  to  study  the  faces  1 
passed  in  this  commonwealth  of  the  rich. 
The  wrinkles  of  care  and  anxiety,  the 
shadow  of  apprehension,  the  unutterable 
soul-craving,  which  haunts  eyes  that  are 
unsatisfied  —  these  marked  many  faces. 
Some,  it  is  true,  wore  the  light,  joyous 
expressions  which  so  well  become  youth, 
and  now  and  then  I  met  a  person  upon 
whose  silver  brow  peace  seemed  to  rest  con- 
tent. Jealousy,  sensualism,  and  unsatisfied 
desire  were  visible  on  many  countenances; 
and  T  could  not  help  feeling  that  the  con- 
ditions which  enabled  colossal  fortune  to 
rise  by  the  side  of  starvation  and  increas- 
ing misery  had  robbed  a  vast  majority  of 
the  children  of  wealth  of  the  only  thing 
which   makes   life    worth   living.     Indeed, 


198  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

such  must  be  the  case.  The  divine  in  man 
cannot  blossom  or  life  yield  its  richest  treas- 
ures while  gold  is  society's  god.  So  long 
as  the  first  question  asked  is,  "  How  rich  is 
he?"  so  long  as  the  standard  is  gold  instead 
of  character;  so  long  as  men  feel  and 
believe  that  money  is  the  greatest  thing  in 
the  world,  the  deepest  and  finest  toned 
chords  in  the  harp  of  life  will  give  forth  no 
melody ;  the  supreme  gift  of  life,  that  peace 
which  comes  only  as  the  result  of  sinking 
self  for  others,  will  be  exiled  from  the 
human  heart;  while  that  priceless  essence 
of  divinity  in  man,  the  soul,  will  wither, 
shrivel,  and  become  as  something  dead. 

I  went  through  the  avenue,  down  Arling- 
ton Street,  and  ascended  Beacon  Hill 
almost  to  its  golden-crested  dome.  I  had 
passed  uninterrupted  rows  of  palaces.  I 
had  found  no  hovel  or  cottage,  and  I  had 
seen  no  sign  of  want  except  in  the  soul- 
hunger  which  peered  forth  from  many  eyes. 
The  residents  of  many  of  the  palaces  I  had 
passed  give  fashionable  balls  and  banquets 
each  winter,  at  which  the  cliampagne  drank, 
alone,  would  keep  scores  of  starving  mor- 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.  199 

tals  in  comparative  comfort  through  the 
pitiless  winter  months.  I  remembered 
that  only  a  few  weeks  before  I  had  seen 
carried  away  the  debris  of  one  of  these 
fashionable  parties.  For  this  special  occa- 
sion fifteen  cases  of  champagne  had  been 
ordered,  over  thirteen  cases  of  which  had 
been  consumed  by  the  guests  before  half- 
past  five  in  the  morning,  at  which  hour  the 
festivities  had  come  to  an  end.  I  wondered 
then,  and  I  wondered  as  I  walked  past  the 
home  of  the  gentleman  who  gave  the  ball, 
how  much  of  the  divine  in  the  nature  of 
those  champagne-imbibers  vanished  that 
cold  winter  night,  for  the  soul  withers  much 
as  does  a  weed-choked  flower  when  the  ani- 
mal eclipses  the  spiritual  in  our  being. 

Leaving  Beacon  Street,  I  turned  down 
the  slope  of  the  hill  leading  toward  the 
populous  and  plebeian  quarter  of  the  West 
End.  It  was  not  long  before  the  scenes  of 
fashionable  wealth  disappeared;  and  it  was 
curious  to  see  along  some  streets  how  the 
old-time  wealth,  which  once  made  these 
quarters  the  most  fashionable  and  select 
part  of  the  city,  seemed  to  be   struggling 


200  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEBNO. 

against  the  ever-increasing  waves  of  poverty. 
A  few  blocks  farther,  and  I  had  entered 
another  world,  the  commonwealth  of  want. 
Here  scenes  of  abject  misery  and  sickening 
depravity  among  the  young  and  old  are 
often  witnessed;  although  here,  also,  amid 
vice,  penury,  and  woe,  every  now  and  then 
there  blossoms  forth  a  royal  soul,  evincing 
such  heroism  and  true  nobility  as  to  give 
one  hope  for  all  mankind.  It  was  in  this 
part  of  the  city,  a  short' time  since,  that  the 
following  tragic  incident  occurred:  A  little* 
fatherless  waif  sold  newspapers,  the  money 
for  which  went  largely  to  suj)ply  a  drunken 
mother  with  rum.  Almost  nightly  the  lit- 
tle fellow  ascended  to  his  home  in  the  gar- 
ret, only  to  receive  abuse,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  a  brutal  beating  from  his  pai^tially 
intoxicated  parent.  One  night  he  returned 
without  as  nuicli  money  as  the  woman 
expected.  She  had  been  drinking  a  great 
deal  that  day,  and  at  once  began  abusing 
the  boy.  As  she  talked,  rage  rose  in  her 
liquor-inflamed  brain ;  finally  she  seized  him, 
saying  she  would  throw  him  out  of  the  win- 
dow.    The  little  fellow  pleaded,  and  fought 


A  PILCniMAGE  ANT)  A   VISION.         201 

for  his  life,  but  she  pushed  him  through  the 
glass;  he  struggled  with  all  his  strength, 
and  managed  to  get  back  in  the  room  but 
the  glass  had  cut  him  most  horribly  and 
the  sight  of  blood  only  served  to  inflame 
the  mother,  who  now  threw  the  bleeding 
child  on  the  floor,  and  sprang  upon  him. 
At  this  moment  neiejhbors  broke  in.  The 
boy  almost  bled  to  death  l)efore  medical 
assistance  could  be  summoned.  The  police 
who  interrogated  him,  when  they  arrested 
the  mother,  could  by  no  method  of  ques- 
tioning force  the  child  to  say  anything  that 
would  criminate  her.  She,  however,  was 
taken  to  jail  on  the  testimony  of  spectators. 
A  friend  who  is  spending  his  life  in  the 
slums  of  the  West  End  gave  me  the  details 
of  this  incident,  and  added :  "  I  visited  the 
little  fellow  at  the  hospital  a  few  days  ago. 
He  was  bearing  up  bravely,  and  in  conver- 
sation would  not  allow  a  word  to  be  said 
ai>:ainst  his  mother.  '  It  is  drink  tliat  is  to 
hlame,'  he  insisted." 

The  case  of  this  little  boy  reminds  me  of 
another  tragedy  enacted  in  the  slums  of 
the  North  End,  a  few  months  ago.     A  poor 


202  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

father  having  lost  his  wife,  was  overtaken 
by  chronic  invalidism.  His  little  savings 
were  soon  exhausted.  He  had  two  small 
children,  and  driven  to  despair  when  he 
contemplated  the  probable  fate  of  his  child- 
ren, he  finally  decided  that  all  should  leave 
the  world  together.  He  killed  his  children 
and  then  cut  his  own  throat.  He  left 
behind  a  pathetic  letter  setting  forth  the 
struggle  he  had  undergone  and  the  reasons 
which  led  to  the  tragic  deeds.  These  inci- 
dents are  representative  of  tragedies  occur- 
ring so  frequently  that  they  have  long  since 
dulled  our  sensibilities.  We  read  of  them 
to-day  and  forget  them  by  to-morrow. 
And  yet  until  we  feel  in  our  own  souls 
something  of  the  agony  of  heart  experien- 
ced by  these  victims  of  despair,  we  will 
not  appreciate  the  appalling  wrongs  to  be 
righted  by  justice  and  love.  And  perhaps 
it  may  be  well  to  pause  here  long  enough 
to  note  some  characteristic  tragedies  which 
portray  the  causes  leading  to  the  death  of 
representatives  in  different  groups  among 
those  who  struggle  upon  the  verge  of  the 
abyss  only  at  last  to  fall  before  remorseless 


A  PILGBIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         203 

social  conditions  which  enable  the  few  to 
monopolize  the  land,  control  the  public 
highways  and  fatten  upon  class  laws  or 
special  privileges. 

Some  time  ago  the  details  of  a  most  heart- 
rending tragedy  crept  into  the  papers.  It 
occurred  about  the  time  that  an  eminent 
American  Divine  declared  to  a  young  man, 
who  endeavored  to  interest  him  in  the  suffer- 
ing poor,'-  That  one  must  go  to  the  Old  World 
to  find  involuntary  poverty."  Since  then 
the  condition  of  our  very  poor  in  the  great 
cities  has  grown  steadily  more  and  more 
deplorable.  I  give  the  details  of  this  case 
as  reported  by  the  Chicago  dailies  at  the 
time  of  its  occurrence: 

Martin  Arndt,  a  tailor,  aged  53,  was  found  dead 
in  the  park  near  the  Douglas  Monument  early  yes- 
terday morning.  A  bullet-hole  near  the  left  tem- 
ple and  a  small  single-barrelled  pistol  in  his  right 
hand  indicated  the  cause.  The  body  was  removed 
to  No.  1318  State  St.,  where  he  lived.  His  wife 
did  not  know  how  to  account  for  the  suicide. 
Her  husband  had  left  home  early  Thursday  morn- 
ing as  usual,  taking  his  lunch  with  him,  to  go  to 
work.  About  ten  A.  M.,  however,  the  mail  carrier 
handed  her  a  letter,  whioh  contained  an  explana- 


204  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

tion.     It  had  been  written  and  posted  Thursday 
evening.     This  Avas  the  substance : 

Dear  Anne :  I  spoke  to  the  book-keeper,  Mr. 
Priddart,  at  Clement  &  Sayers',  and  requested 
him  to  give  me  half  of  a  cent  more  for  each  coat, 
but  he  replied  that  he  couldn't  do  it.  He  allowed 
me  to  take  one  lot  at  half  a  cent  more.  But 
immediately  afterwards  Mr.  Raahe  (the  foreman) 
came  and  told  me  he  had  something  nice  to  tell 
me :  "  Mr.  Priddart  had  engaged  another  man, 
who  would  press  the  coats  for  one  cent,  and  as 
soon  as  you  have  that  lot  of  coats  done  you  can 
stop  work."  I  told  him  when  a  man  wanted  a 
trifle  more  for  his  work,  he  got  discharged;  that 
I  thought  it  was  rather  mean.  I  looked  all  over 
for  another  place,  but  could  not  find  one.  I  don't 
know  what  I  shall  do  now,  and  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  not  to  return  to  you  again.  I  looked  over 
the  constitution  of  the  Harigari,  and  find  that  if  a 
brother  commits  suicide  his  wife  and  children 
receive  the  regular  benefit  —  $500  ;  and  from  the 
Druids  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  the 
money  to  bury  me.  You  Avill  be  better  off  than  if 
I  live.  Therefore  it  is  my  intention  to  end  this 
miserable  life,  and  I  have  picked  out  the  Douglas 
Monument  as  the  place  to  die.  There  you  will 
find  my  corpse.  I  beg  you  to  forgive  me.  I  can't 
do  otherwise.  I  hope  my  folks  (brothers  and  sis- 
ters in  Germany)  will  not  hear  anything  about  it. 
If  you  marry  again  do  not  let  your  man  mistreat 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         205 

Hugo  (his  son.)  I  commit  this  deed  with  my  full 
senses,  although  I  know  well  what  a  disgrace  I 
put  on  you  and  the  family.  I  cannot  do  other- 
wise. Sooner  or  later  it  would  have  happened. 
That  is  all  I  have  to  say.  M.  Arndt. 

It  seems  that  Ardnt  had  worked  only  a  short 
time  for  Clmnent  &  Sayers,  —  this  being  his  second 
week.  The  coats  referred  to  were  of  linen,  and  a 
man  can  press  half-a-dozen  in  an  hour.  Last 
week,  by  working  ten  hours  a  day,  he  made  $4.80. 
It  Avas  his  liabit  to  ride  from  1318  State  Street  to 
416  Milwaukee  Avenue  in  the  morning  at  a  cost 
of  ten  cents,  and  to  walk  home  at  night,  —  a  dis- 
tance of  five  miles.  Had  he  ridden  both  ways, 
the  $4.80  would  have  been  reduced  to  $3.60. 
lie  was  a  temperate  man,  but  hard  work  had 
reduced  him  to  almost  skin  and  bones.  Having 
been  dismissed,  and  tliere  being  few  chances  for 
employment  nowadays,  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
go  where  bread  and  butter  are  not  needed.  That 
he  was  determined  to  end  his  life  is  evidenced  by 
two  wounds,  —  one  in  the  body  below  the  heart, 
and  another  in  the  head.  He  must  have  tired 
first  at  his  heart.  Missing  it  and  not  dying,  he 
deliberately  loaded  the  pistol  a  second  time  and 
fired  into  his  brain,  and  this  accomplished  his 
purpose. 

Here  are  the  details  of  another  suicide 
due  to  present  social  Qonditions;   which 


206  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

further  impresses  the  contemplative  mind 
with  the  difference  between  the  altruism  of 
Jesus  and  the  motive  power  which  to-day 
animates  a  nation  boasting  that  it  is  Chris- 
tian, while  it  permits  such  frightful  trag- 
edies to  pass  with  little  or  no  protest  from 
the  shepherds  or  the  flocks  who  represent 
the  Nazarine.  A  few  months  ago  the  body 
of  a  half-starved  girl  was  found  in  the  lake 
at  Chicago.  It  was  the  corpse  of  Mamie 
Jennings — beautiful,  ill-starred  Mamie  Jen- 
nings— one  of  an  army  which  poverty  is 
to-day  hounding  to  death  in  a  land  which 
boasts  of  unexampled  prosperity.  Here  is 
the  story  condensed  from  the  daily  papers. 
Mamie  Jennings  was  the  daughter  of  a 
once  prosperous  gentleman,  who  through 
successive  misfortunes  came  at  last  to 
want,  and  died  in  utter  destitution. 
Mamie  was  a  beautiful  girl  over  twenty 
years  of  age.  Her  mother  was  a  confirmed 
invalid.  In  the  great  overflowing  city, 
crowded  with  the  unemployed,  the  poor 
girl  found  the  struggle  for  bread,  raiment 
and  shelter  for  her  mother  and  herself  a 
frightful    battle.      There    was,    however, 


A  PILGBIMAGE  AND  A  VISION.         207 

much  innate  heroism  in  the  fiber  of  her 
being,  and  she  faced  fate  bravely  as  ever 
stronij;  men  faced  the  cannon.  At  last  her 
health  broke  down,  but  she  could  not  afford 
to  be  sick ;  a  starving  mother's  face  was 
constantly  before  her  eyes.  One  who 
investigated  the  case  after  her  death  wrote 
thus  graphically  of  her  struggle : 

Almost  unable  to  stand  from  weakness,  she 
bent  over  a  waslitub  all  that  day,  and  when  she 
returned  home  in  the  evening  she  cried  herself  to 
sleep.  At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  she  arose, 
and  without  any  breakfast  —  for  there  was  only- 
enough  in  the  house  for  one  —  she  started  off  to 
work.  She  Avas  unable  to  Avalk  down  town,  and 
she  took  the  last  nickel  in  the  house  to  pay  her 
fare.  When  she  reached  the  Troy  she  was  sick. 
"  I  don't  believe  I'll  be  able  to  work  to-day,"  she 
said  to  the  cashier.  There  were  dark  circles 
under  her  eyes  and  she  trembled  from  the  cold. 
The  cashier  told  her  to  go  home  and  return  Fri- 
day. After  leaving  the  place,  about  seven  o'clock, 
nothing  was  seen  of  her  until  her  body  was  found 
in  the  lake. 

The  same  writer  thus  concludes  his  pen- 
picture   of  this    every-day  tragedy,  which 


208  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 


has  become  so  common  cas  merely  to  call 
for  short  notices  in  the  papers:  — 

There  are  huudreds  of  thousands  in  this  land 
of  boasted  plenty  and  misery,  who  are  condemned, 
through  no  fault  of  their  own,  to  the  same  life  of 
grinding  toil  and  hopeless  penury  that  Mamie 
Jennings  lived ;  and  the  marvel  is,  not  that  this 
poor,  crushed,  suffering,  starving  girl  determined 
to  end  it  all  with  one  j^lunge,  and  welcome  obliv- 
ion or  the  unknown,  rather  than  endure  it  longer, 
but  that  so  few  of  the  miserable  do  likewise. 

I  have  paused  in  my  pilgrimage  long 
enough  to  briefly  refer  to  some  grim,  every- 
day tragedies  which  are  typical,  in  order 
if  possible,  to  impress  the  reader  with  the 
real  significance  of  the  awful  happenings  so 
common  to-day  as  to  excite  little  comment. 

From  the  West  End  I  passed  to  what  is 
known  as  the  slums  of  the  North  End, 
and  was  joined  by  a  friend  whose  life  is 
spent  in  saving  the  sinking,  much  as  the 
heroic  life-savers  spend  theirs  on  the  ocean's 
treacherous  shores.  In  the  slums  of  the 
North  End  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
social  nadir  of  Boston.  Within  ten  minutes' 
walk  from  the  historic  Old  North  Church, 
and  within  an  hour's  stroll  from  the  i)al- 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A  VISION.         209 

aces  of  Beacon  Hill,  we  encounter  poverty 
so  terrible,  that  its  existence  in  the  heart 
of  a  Christian  centre  of  wealth  and  culture, 
brands  our  civilization  with  shame,  and 
puts  a  blister  on  Religion's  brow  —  all 
the  more  because  so  much  of  it  is  unin- 
vited poverty. 

The  casual  observer  who  traverses  the 
streets  of  the  North  End,  little  imagines 
the  horrible  squalor  all  around  him,  for 
the  reason  that  almost  all  the  dilapidated 
buildings  are  hidden  from  view  by  brick 
fronts.  The  worst  features  of  the  North 
End  slums  are  unsuspected  by  our  people 
who  have  not  passed  up  the  scores  of  alley- 
ways, through  the  narrow  corridors,  or 
down  through  the  cellar-like  passages 
which  line  the  streets,  into  the  courtyards 
of  the  democracy  of  night.  Those  who 
have  thus  penetrated  into  the  real  heart  of 
the  slums  are  appalled.  Frequently  the 
buildings  are  brick,  facing  the  street ;  but 
passing  through  the  alley-way  we  find 
great,  dilapidated  wooden  houses  in  the 
rear,  which  swarm  with  human  beings. 
If  the  passers-by  could  see  what  the  brick 


210  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

walls  which  front  Hanover  and  other  streets 
of  the  North  End  hide  from  view,  I  believe 
a  sense  of  self-respect,  if  no  higher  motive, 
would  be  voiced  in  an  agitation  so  deter- 
mined as  to  lead  to  radical  changes.  But 
from  all  appearance,  we  must  wait  for  some 
terrible  contagion,  arising  from  these  plague 
spots,  to  strike  down  thousands  of  the  chil- 
dren of  the  rich,  before  justice  will  be  heard. 
The  first  family  visited  presented  a  very 
pitiful  spectacle ;  and  as  it  typifies  a  class 
far  larger  than  our  popular  economists 
would  have  easy-going  people  believe,  I 
will  i^ive  the  facts  somewhat  in  detail. 
The  father  is  an  industrious  Italian,  who 
has  succeeded  for  the  past  few  years  in 
securing  employment  most  of  the  time. 
He  and  his  wife  were  very  frugal.  They 
feared  the  approach  of  a  rainy  day  when 
sickness  or  decrepitude  might  bring  them 
from  tlie  brink  of  starvation  into  the 
depths.  Hence  every  penny  possible  was 
saved.  They  had  three  children,  the  oldest 
eight.  The  mother  worked  out,  making 
what  she  could.  The  little  eight-year-old 
child  kept  the  home,  and  tended  her  young 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         211 

brother  and  sister.  By  self-denial  and 
strict  economy  this  little  family  had  saved 
one  hundred  dollars,  when  a  blow  fell  upon 
them.  The  overwork  and  constant  strain 
endured  by  the  wife  and  mother  expressed 
itself  in  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  the  whole  of 
one  side  of  the  body  being  rendered  lifeless. 
The  husband,  who  seems  a  very  kind-hearted 
man,  was  compelled  to  leave  his  work  to 
care  for  his  wife.  He  summoned  doctors. 
Of  coarse  the  source  of  income  ceased; 
meantime,  rent,  doctor's  bills,  fuel,  and 
food  day  by  day  ate  up  the  careful  savings 
of  several  years.  The  wife  rallied  a  little, 
and  the  afflicted  husband  sought  work. 
His  place  had  been  fdled  by  another;  and 
then  followed  a  weary  search  for  something, 
anything  to  do ;  but  in  the  winter  there  are 
many  seeking  work  and  he  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  obtain  employment  at  any  price. 
During  this  time  all  their  savings  had  dis- 
appeared ;  they  had  no  money  for  coal  or 
food.  At  this  juncture  a  young  lady,  who 
had  become  interested  in  tlie*  sufferers,  vis- 
ited my  friend  in  the  North  End  with  money 
to  gladden  some  hearts  during  the  Christ- 


212  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEBNO. 

mas  season.  Together  they  visited  this 
family.  The  day  was  bitter  cold;  but  in 
the  wretched  den,  which  these  unfortunates 
call  home,  the  messengers  of  love  found  the 
invalid  wife  and  hungry  children  with  no 
fire  and  no  food.  The  young  lady  pur- 
chased coal  and  provisions,  and  in  other 
ways  brightened  Christmas  for  these  poor 
children  of  an  adverse  fate.  I  saw  the 
family  a  week  later;  they  still  enjoyed  the 
warmth  and  food  provided  by  this  noble- 
hearted  young  woman.  The  rent  paid  by 
this  family  is  nine  dollars  a  month ;  the 
father  can  as  yet  get  no  w^ork;  the  rooms, 
two  in  number,  look  out  ujDon  a  small  and 
filthy  court.  The  surroundings  are  squalid ; 
stifling  odors  on  every  hand.  In  the  house 
the  most  abject  poverty  is  everywhere  vis- 
ible. Here  a  father,  mother,  and  three  lit- 
tle children  are  on  the  very  brink  of  the 
abyss,  through  no  fault  of  their  own.  In 
spite  of  industry  and  pinching  frugality 
they  are  facing  starvation,  and  even  w^ork 
is  denied.  Tliis  family,  as  I  have  observed, 
is  a  fair  type  of  numbers  of  families  in  Bos- 
ton's vortex  of  want. 


A  PILGRUrAGE  AND  A   VISION.  213 

Is  it  right  that  millions  of  dollars  of 
acquired  wealth  should  every  year  be  lav- 
ished in  wanton  luxuries,  which  enervate 
manhood  and  undermine  the  virility  of 
civilization,  while  God's  children  in  the 
social  cellar  are  starving?  Is  it  right  that 
we  build  churches  costing  from  five  hun- 
dred thousand  to  five  million  dollars  each, 
while  our  brothers  are  seeking  work  to 
save  their  loved  ones,  and  finding  none? 
This  is  one  of  the  most  solemn  questions 
which  confronts  our  2^resent  civilization.  If 
Christianity  meant  half  what  Jesus  intend- 
ed it  should  mean,  this  state  of  things 
could  not  endure  for  a  single  day. 

In  another  tenement  we  found,  on  the 
fourth  floor,  an  old  woman  living  in  a  soli- 
tary room  only  five  feet  wide.  This  was 
her  home  —  dining-room,  sleeping -room, 
and  kitchen,  scarcel}^  more  than  a  closet. 
This  poor  woman  pays  seventy-five  cents 
a  week  rent.  She  is  nearing  the  grave; 
and  I  felt,  on  studying  her  face,  so  deeply 
wrinkled  by  a  life  of  anxious  care  and 
years  of  suffering  and  privation,  that  here 
death  would  surely  be  a  messenger  of  relief. 


214  CIVILIZATION'S  IXFEENO. 

Descending  a  few  steps  into  a  sombre 
cellar,  we  found  the  abode  of  a  family  of 
six.  Two  dark,  damp  rooms  or  burrows 
constituted  the  home  of  this  family.  They 
were  very  cold,  as  there  was  no  vestige  of 
fire  in  the  room.  The  air  also  was  heavy 
with  vile  odors.  Here  were  several  little 
children  being  raised  amid  filth,  in  an 
atmosphere  reeking  with  moral  impurity 
and  crime.  They  will  form  a  part  of  the 
civilization  of  to-morrow. 

In  this  neighborhood  we  visited  a  widow 
with  two  little  children ;  her  husband  was 
lost  at  sea,  and  she  supports  the  family 
by  her  needle.  It  is  useless  to  add  that 
life  is  one  long,  dreary,  and  well-nigh  hope- 
less nightmare  to  her,  as  it  is  to  scores  of 
widow  women  in  the  slums.  The  sea  is 
almost  as  cruel  as  man,  and  hundreds  of 
poor  women  who  live  in  the  squalor  of  our 
sea-ports  wait  weary  years  for  loved  ones 
who  come  no  more. 

Off  a  vile-smelling  court  we  found  a 
family  of  three  children.  The  mother  was 
up  town  sewing.  The  world  of  these  little 
ones  is  bounded  for  the  most  part  by  the 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         215 

four  walls  of  two  small  rooms.  Here, 
amid  the  plainest  furniture  and  in  plenty 
of  dirt,  from  morning  till  night  the  little 
girl  watches  her  little  brothers.  They  are 
Portuguese,  but  attend  the  Bethel  Mission. 
''Can  you  not  sing  us  a  song?"  said  my 
friend.  After  some  persuasion,  the  little 
girl  and  the  oldest  boy  sang,  "  My  Country, 
'Tis  of  Thee,  Sweet  Land  of  Liberty!"  I 
involuntarily  started.  What  grim  satire 
was  I  hearing !  Little  dwarfed  lives, 
starving  in  poverty  and  wretchedness,  in 
the  filth  of  the  slums,  singing,  "Sweet 
Land  of  Liberty  ! "  I  w\as  glad  that  they 
did  not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the 
song,  for  it  would  have  made  life  more 
bitter. 

We  visited  many  more  places  where  pov- 
erty was  what  I  term  uninvited ;  but  these, 
being  typical,  will  enable  us  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  commonwealth  of  the  unfor- 
tunates at  the  social  nadir.  I  have  not  the 
space  to  show  another  phase  of  this  prob- 
lem or  to  cite  cases  to  illustrate  how  this 
life  breaks  down  the  moral  nature;  how  a 
life   in   dens   unfit    for    brutes,   brutalizes 


216  CIVILIZATION' S  INFERNO. 

God's  children.  We  hear  much  about  the 
vice  and  crime  and  the  drunkenness  of  the 
shims;  to  me  it  is  a  marvel  that  there  is 
not  more.  When  I  see  the  lavish  waste 
of  wealth  for  wines  and  luxuries  at  the 
social  zenith,  while  abject  poverty  abounds 
within  cannon  range  of  the  scene  of  revel- 
ry, I  sometimes  almost  lose  faith  in  man. 
But  when  I  visit  the  slums  and  see  virtue 
and  probity  under  such  a  terrible  strain, 
and  with  everything  pressing  viceward, 
I  have  my  faith  in  humanity  restored. 
That  there  is  intemperance,  crime,  and 
immorality  there,  no  one  denies.  This 
trinity  of  the  night  liolds  high  carnival  at 
the  social  nadir;  but  that,  in  spite  of  envi- 
ronment and  the  brutalizing  influence 
everywhere  present,  virtue,  industry,  and 
self-respect  still  live,  is  to  me  a  continual 
source  of  wonder,  and  testifies  most  elo- 
qaently  to  the  innate  spark  of  divinity  in 
the  human  soul.  I  returned  from  my 
jDilgr image  heart-sickened  and  depressed. 
The  squalor,  the  filth,  the  vile  odors,  the 
hungry  souls,  the  haunting  eyes,  the 
pinched  faces  of  starved  3'outh  and  helpless 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A  VISION.         217 

age,  produced  a  sense  of  weariness  and 
oppression  difficult  to  describe.  I  soon  fell 
into  a  painful  reverie.  How  is  it,  I  asked, 
that  the  commonwealth  of  the  prosperous 
is  so  selfishly  short-sighted  ?  Do  not  these 
millionaires  see  in  the  loved  ones  around 
them  something  more  priceless  than  the 
gold  they  worship?  Do  they  not  see  that 
at  their  very  doors  are  cesspools  of  disease, 
where  death-breeding  germs  will  some  day 
subtly  steal  upward  and  permeate  the  air 
of  their  exclusive  realm,  until  their  own 
loved  fragile  flowers  will  wither  and  fall, 
leaving  their  homes  strangely  desolate  ? 
Can  they  not  understand  the  profound 
wisdom  of  the  passages  in  the  Scrip- 
tures which  teach  us  that  '-'No  man 
liveth  unto  himself,"  and  '•  That  it  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive"?  Can 
they  not  feel  that  only  as  we  elevate, 
purify,  and  ennoble  other  homes,  do  we 
glorify  and  protect  our  own  hearthstones, 
and  that  sooner  or  later  retribution  will 
overtake  the  selfish  soul  ? 

Then   I   must    have    fallen    asleep,    for 
before  me  stood  an  angel  w^ith  face  sad, 


218  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

yet  wonderfully  sweet,  and  the  angel  said, 
"Look!"  And  I  saw  the  slums  of  our 
city,  and  from  a  hundred  homes  I  beheld 
something  almost  imj)alpable  emanating 
—  something  which  resembled  smoke, 
which  assumed  a  thousand  fantastic  and 
gruesome  forms,  as  in  great  clouds  it 
slowly  floated  over  the  city.  Then  I  heard 
a  great  cry.  The  sobbing  of  a  mighty  city 
was  audible.  Death  was  everywhere  pres- 
ent. I  beheld  thousands  of  our  people  flee- 
ing to  the  depots ;  but  scarcely  had  they 
left  the  city  when  the  wires  flashed,  quick, 
sharp,  and  unsj^mpathetic,  the  fateful  news 
that  all  cities  and  towns  were  quarantined 
against  Boston.  I  saw  that  numbers  flee- 
ing died  on  the  way,  and  others,  finding  all 
places  barred  against  them,  returned  to  die 
at  home.  The  plague,  impalpable  but  ter- 
rible, seemed  omnipresent.  The  city  was 
draped  in  black.  '*The  innocent  and  noble 
are  dying,"  I  said.  "Say  rather,  ^They  are 
being  promoted' "  ;  but  I  saw  a  tear  glisten 
in  the  angel's  eyes,  and  I  said,  "Was  all 
this  waste  of  life  necessary?"  And  the 
angel  said,  "Even  so,  for  man  had  hard- 


A  PILGBIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         219 


ened  his  heart  against  his  brother  man. 
He  had  closed  his  ears  against  the  cry  of 
the  poor  for  justice.  He  had  sowed  to  the 
wind,  and  is  now  reaping  the  whirlwind. 
Sorrow,"  continued  the  angel,  and  the 
voice  was  rich  in  melody,  "makes  man 
thoughtful.  In  the  midnight  of  grief  he 
hears  the  voice  of  justice,  which  is  the  voice 
of  the  Most  High.  Look  once  more ! "  Now 
I  beheld  a  scene  of  marvellous  beauty 
opening  before  my  view.  Great  buildings, 
each  covering  a  square  and  from  six  to 
eight  stories  high,  rose  on  every  hand. 
Each  was  built  in  the  form  of  a  hollow 
square,  and  within  the  enclosures  I  saw 
borders  of  flowers  fringing  playgrounds, 
where  were  fountains  and  many  happy 
children.  The  music  of  their  laughter 
chimed  melodiously  with  the  splashing  of 
the  water.  Here  and  there  I  noticed  large 
temple-like  buildings,  and  I  said,  "What 
are  these?"  The  angel  replied,  "We  will 
enter  one."  At  the  threshold  (for  in  my 
dream  I  moved  as  thought  travels)  I  was 
impressed  by  the  immensity  and  simplicity 
of  the  structure.    We  entered  and  descended 


220  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEBNO. 

to  tlie  basement.  I  beheld  great  swim- 
ming-pools and  an  immense  gymnasium; 
above  were  large  eating-halls,  Avhere  plain 
food  w^as  served  at  reasonable  prices; 
beyond  the  eating-halls  were  commodious 
reading-rooms,  free  to  all  the  people.  We 
ascended  a  broad  stairway  to  the  next  floor. 
Here  I  saw  a  large  hall,  in  which  a  clear- 
voiced  orator  was  describino;  the  wonders 
of  other  lands  and  ages,  and  by  the  aid  of 
a  magnificent  stereopticon  was  entertaining 
and  instructing  an  immense  audience. 
This  also  was  free.  In  another  hall  an 
artist  was  entertaining  a  large  congrega- 
tion by  giving  an  effective  charcoal  talk. 
Bej^ond  was  a  free  night  school.  "These 
quarters  are  the  habitation  of  the  poor, 
once  the  slums  of  Boston,"  said  the  angel; 
"  but"  she  continued,  "  Let  us  look 
further,"  and  now  I  beheld  a  broad,  green 
expanse  dotted  with  beautiful  houses  and 
some  large  buildings.  "This,"  explained 
the  angel,  "is  the  home  of  orphan  children. 
Here  within  each  cottage  may  be  found 
twenty  little  ones.  In  the  large  buildings 
a    wonderful    schooling    is    being    given. 


A  PILGRIMAGE  AND  A   VISION.         221 

Each  cliilcl  is  made  master  of  a  trade, 
while  his  soul  is  being  developed  by  love, 
by  music,  and  by  ethical  teaching.  The 
intellect  is  also  schooled.  To  the  children 
this  is  heaven,  for  love  meets  them  on 
every  hand.  "  This,"  said  the  angel, 
"which  you  see  is  only  the  first  step;  it  is 
the  lifeboat  sent  out  to  save  a  few  who  are 
sinking;  it  is  an  earnest  of  the  awakening 
of  the  divine  in  man.  Beyond  and  above 
this,  Progress,  Fraternity,  and  Justice  are 
leading  the  people.  All  special  privileges 
and  class  laws  have  been  abolished. 
Through  the  broad  land  societies  of  human 
brotherhood  have  been  formed  pledged  to 
love  all  God's  children,  to  drown  the  hoarse 
roar  of  hate  with  the  music  of  love;  to 
overcome  evil  by  good;  to  drive  out  the 
darkness  by  the  light."  The  angel  van- 
ished.    I  awoke. 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW? 


223 


"  'Tis  coming  up  the  steep  of  Time, 

And  this  old  world  is  growing  brighter  ; 
We  may  not  see  its  dawn  sublime, 

Yet  high  hopes  make  the  heart  throb  lighter  ; 
Our  dust  may  slumber  under-ground 

"When  it  awakes  the  world  in  wonder  ; 
But  we  have  felt  it  gathering  round, 

We  have  heard  its  voice  of  distant  thunder. 
'  Tis  coming  ;  yes,  '  tis  coming  ! 

"  There's  a  Divinity  within 

That  makes  men  great  if  they  but  will  it  ; 
God  works  with  all  who  dare  to  win. 

And  the  time  cometli  to  reveal  it. 

'  Tis  coming  ;  yes,  '  tis  coming  ! 

"  Fraternity,  Love's  other  name  — 

Dear,  heaven-connecting  link  of  being  — 
Then  shall  we  grasp  thy  golden  dream. 

As  souls,  full-statured,  grow  far-seeing. 
Thou  shalt  unfold  our  better  part. 

And  in  our  life-cup  yield  more  honey  ; 
Light  up  with  joy  the  poor  man's  heart, 

And  love's  own  world  with  smiles  more  sunny. 
"  '  Tis  coming  ;  yes,  '  tis  coming." 

Gerald  Massey. 


224 


WHAT  OF  THE  MOBROW?  225 


VTII. 
WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW? 

Are  radical  changes  for  the  betterment  of  the  industrial  mil- 
lions pending  ?— The  perils  of  the  present — What  we  must 
expect  from  the  upholders  of  class  privileges — The 
unmistakable  drift  of  the  times  toward  human  brother- 
hood— A  persistent  ideal  once  rooted  in  the  popular 
mind  never  departs  without  a  struggle  for  supremacy — 
Encouraging  signs — The  Slogan  cry  of  the  new  day — 
The  prophetic  view  of  William  Morris. 

IN  the  midst  of  poverty,  which  is  the  her- 
itage of  so  many  white  slaves  in  country 
and  city  life  to-day,  we  are  confronted  by 
the  question:  Will  the  morrow  witness  a 
new  order  of  things?  Will  conditions  be 
so  changed  that  uninvited  want  will  be 
reduced  to  exceptional  cases,  if  it  does  not 
entirely  disappear,  and  will  social  aspects 
be  so  changed  that  it  will  be  easier  for  men 
to  do  right  than  to  sin  ?  In  other  words, 
will  conditions  tend  to  develop  and  bring 
out  all  that  is  noblest,  purest,  and  most 


226  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

divine  in  man's  nature?  I  believe  such 
changes  not  only  possible  but  inevitable,  if 
those  whose  hearts  have  been  touched  by 
the  higher  altruistic  thought  of  the  hour 
do  their  duty.  There  are  to-day,  as  never 
before,  multitudinous  forces  at  work, 
leagued  with  Justice  and  the  Dawn. 
Some  are  silent,  and  their  influence  is 
unsuspected;  while  above  and  beyond  all 
is  the  impalpable  but  persistent  ideal  of 
human  brotherhood,  which  has  taken  pos- 
session of  the  hearts  and  brains  of  millions 
of  thinking  men,  women,  and  children. 

And  yet  we  must  not  allow  ourselves  to 
be  deceived  by  expectations  of  an  easy 
triumph.  Forces  which,  in  themselves, 
hold  invincible  potency  may  be  held  in 
check,  if  not  defeated,  by  a  soulless  plutoc- 
racy intrenched  behind  class  laws.  Such  a 
plutocracy  as  is  found  in  the  giant  trusts 
and  monopolies  of  our  day.  Now  the  fact 
is  beginning  to  dawn  on  thoughtful  people 
that  we  Americans,  who  have  fallen  into 
the  foolish  habit  of  parroting  trite  phrases 
about  self-government,  are  in  reality  far 
less  our  own  masters  than  most  people  sup- 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW?  227 

pose.  The  truth  cannot  be  denied  that  an 
oligarchy,  representing  many  interests,  but 
having  a  common  cause  to  defend,  shapes, 
when  it  does  not  instigate,  a  large  propor- 
tion of  our  present-day  legislation.  I  very 
much  doubt  whether  the  members  of  Con- 
gress or  the  representatives  in  various  state 
legislatures  dream  how  perfectly  the 
gloved  hand  of  organized  capital  guides 
the  helm  of  state;  how  important  meas- 
ures are  defeated,  dangerous  bills  are  enac- 
ted, amid  the  alternate  enthusiasm  and 
apathy  of  the  public.  That  the  press  is 
also  being  silently  and,  in  many  cases, 
unwittingly  swayed  and  influenced,  is 
undoubtedly  true.  The  following  story 
related  of  the  famous  chess-playing  autom- 
aton of  Paris,  long  an  unsolved  mystery  in 
the  French  capital,  is  suggestive.  The 
emperor,  hearing  much  of  the  ingenious 
piece  of  mechanism,  determined  to  inspect 
it,  and  if  possible  unravel  the  enigma. 
The  automaton  played  marvellously  well 
until  the  emperor  designedly  made  a  false 
move,  when  with  a  sweep  of  the  arm  it 
cleared    the    board,    while    the    emperor, 


228  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

springing  to  his  feet,  exclaimed,  "  There  is 
a  man  behind  the  automaton!"  So  if  our 
people  had  boasted  less  and  observed  more 
during  the  past  three  decades,  they  would 
have  seen  behind  the  vicious  class  legis- 
lation which  has  fostered  plutocracy  and 
virtually  placed  the  reins  of  the  govern- 
ment in  the  hands  of  organized  capital,  a 
selfish,  grasping,  directing  brain  concoct- 
ing apparently  innocent  bills  which  each 
year  were  passed  by  the  various  legisla- 
tures, or  became  organic  law  through  Con- 
gressional acts.  Furthermore,  we  must  not 
lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  when  the  despot- 
ism of  accumulated  wealth  becomes  fully 
aroused  to  the  dangers  which  confront  it, 
all  the  energies  which  belong  to  the 
instincts  of  self-preservation,  will  be  put 
forth  to  maintain  the  unjust  and  inequit- 
able conditions  through  which  the  few 
reap  the  harvests  of  the  many. 

Two  things  must  be  brought  about  before 
we  can  hope  for  the  advent  of  the  great 
vital  reformative  measures  which  will, 
through  the  operation  of  justice,  transform, 
to  a  certain  extent  at  least,  the  face  of  civ- 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORBOWf  229 

ilization.  First,  the  people  must  be  aroused 
to  the  danger  of  the  silent  influences  now 
operating  in  Washington,  in  the  various 
state  capitals,  and  even  upon  the  judiciary 
and  through  the  press;  and,  being  aroused 
to  the  magnitude  of  the  peril,  they  must, 
for  a  time  at  least,  sink  all  petty  strife, 
and  move  in  solid  phalanx  against  the 
common  enemy.  The  measures  proposed 
may  not  come  up  to  our  ideals,  but  if  they 
make  for  the  equality  of  opportunity,  and 
are  founded  upon  justice,  they  should  be 
accepted  by  sincere  reformers  as  steps  in 
the  right  direction.  With  this  catholic 
standa^'d  before  us,  all  who  have  faith  in 
civilization,  all  who  love  humanity,  all 
who  bov/  before  the  sacred  shrine  of  Just- 
ice, should  move  forward.  Aj^jrr'^ciation 
of  the  magnitude  of  tlie  iKril,  and  concerted 
actmi — these  are  the  supreme  needs  of 
the  hour.  That  millions  of  people  are 
becoming  aroused,  is  admitted  by  all 
thoughtful  persons.  I  believe  that  the  dis- 
content of  the  present  has  reached  such 
a  stage  that  710  palliative  rneasures  loill 
satisfy  the  2'>eo2:)le. 


230  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

This  awakening  of  the  masses,  as  a 
result  of  independent  investigation  and 
thoughtful  study,  is  one  of  the  reasons 
on  which  I  base  my  faith  in  the  dawn- 
ing day.  Another  reason  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  scores  of  the  best  thinkers  of 
our  time  have  entered  the  arena  for  the 
industrial  millions.  Eminent  essayists, 
clergymen,  novelists,  and  poets  are  sound- 
ing the  bugle  for  the  toiling  multitude. 

There  is  another  reason  why  I  believe  in 
the  near  approach  of  radical  reformatory 
measures.  Never  in  the  history  of  the 
world  have  so  many  thoughtful  people 
apprehended  clearly  the  great  basic  truth, 
that  in  a  complex  life  like  ours  the  inter- 
ests of  all  are  so  interwoven  that  anything 
which  injures  one,  sooner  or  later  injures 
all,  and  that  which  elevates  one  elevates 
all.  We  are  beginning  to  learn  the  vital 
lesson  that  only  by  justice  and  love  can 
we  secure  true  happiness  as  individuals,  or 
enduring  prosperity  as  a  nation. 

Then,  again,  the  ideals  of  men  are 
broadening.  The  conception  of  God  is 
changing.     The    progress-paralyzing  mias- 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW?  231 

ma  of  creeds,  which  a  few  years  ago  envel- 
oped the  warring  sects  of  Christendom,  is 
disappearing  before  the  dawn  of  a  higher 
conception  of  God's  truth  and  a  truer 
apprehension  of  wdiat  constitutes  religion 
"pure  and  undefded."  Creeds  are  falling 
away,  and  deeds  are  coming  to  take  their 
place.  The  religion  of  the  morrow  wdll 
emphasize  life  rather  than  dogma.  Its 
mission  will  be  to  seek  and  to  save, 
because  love  will  be  tile  all-mastering  pas- 
sion of  those  who  have  felt  the  higher  civ- 
ilization pulsing  through  their  veins.  And 
this  breadth  of  thought  will  enable  gigantic 
reforms  along  palliative  lines  to  be  carried 
on,  as  well  as  radical  fundamental  changes, 
which,  in  the  nature  of  things,  will  require 
more  time.  I  believe  the  day  is  not  far 
distant  when  societies  embracing  Christians, 
Hebrews,  Buddhists  and  Agnostics — in  a 
word,  societies  embracing  all  who  love  man- 
kind enough  to  sacrifice  self  in  the  interests 
of  humanity — will  strike  hands  for  a  com- 
mon good.  It  may  not  come  this  year  or 
next  year;  but  the  trend  is  unmistakably 
toward  the  union  of  those  who  believe  in 


232  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

saving  man  here  and  now.  When  such  or- 
ganizations shall  be  formed  in  our  cities  and 
hamlets,  they  will  be  schools  of  the  higher 
ethics  for  all  members,  as  well  as  active 
and  aggressive  forces  for  the  redemption  of 
life  in  the  social  cellar.  They  will  establish 
in  the  slums  reading-rooms  and  halls  for 
lectures,  concerts,  and  healthful  amuse- 
ments, where  all  will  be  welcome.  They 
will  provide  swimming-pools  and  gymnasi- 
ums; they  will  open  kindergarten  and  indus- 
trial schools.  They  will  teach  cooking  and 
sewing  to  girls,  and  useful  trades  to  boys ; 
and  at  the  same  time  they  will  teach  the 
young  to  be  pure,  just,  and  noble.  They 
will  seek  out  the  suffering  and  the  starving ; 
they  will  help  the  weak  to  become  strong. 
They  will  catch  a  guiding  and  overmaster- 
ing inspiration  from  the  words  of  Victor 
Hugo,  when  the  great  poet-prophet  exclaims : 
"Sacrifice  to  the  mob!  Sacrifice  to  that 
unfortunate,  disinherited,  vanquished,  vaga- 
bond, shoeless,  famished,  repudiated,  despair- 
ing mob;  sacrifice  to  it,  if  it  must  be,  and 
when  it  must  be,  thy  repose,  thy  fortune, 
thy  joy,  thy  country,  thy  liberty,  thy  life. 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW?  233 

The  mob  is  the  human  race  in  misery. 
Tlie  mob  is  the  mournful  beginning  of  the 
people.  The  mob  is  the  great  victim  of 
darkness.  Sacrifice  to  it  thy  gold,  and  thy 
blood,  which  is  more  than  thy  gold,  and 
thy  thought,  which  is  more  than  thy  blood, 
and  thy  love,  which  is  more  than  thy 
thought ;  sacrifice  to  it  everything  except 
justice.  Receive  its  complaint:  listen  to 
it  touching  its  faults  and  touching  the 
faults  of  others;  hear  its  confession  and  its 
accusation.  Give  it  thy  ear,  thy  hand,  thy 
arm,  thy  heart.  Do  everything  for  it 
excepting  evil.  Alas !  it  suffers  so  much, 
and  it  knows  nothing.  Correct  it,  warn  it, 
instruct  it,  guide  it,  train  it.  Put  it  to  the 
school  of  honesty.  Make  it  spell  truth; 
show  it  the  alphabet  of  reason ;  teach  it  to 
read  virtue,  probity,  generosity,  mercy. 
Hold  thy  book  wide  open.  Be  there, 
attentive,  A^gilant,  kind,  faithful,  humble. 
Light  up  the  brain,  inflame  the  mind, 
extinguish  selfishness;  and  thyself  give 
the  example.  It  is  beautiful  that  Force 
should  have  Right  for  a  master,  that 
Progress  should  have  Courage  as  a  leader. 


234  CIVILIZATION'S  INFERNO. 

that  Intelligence  should  have  Honor  as 
a  sovereign,  that  Conscience  should  have 
Duty  as  a  despot,  that  Civilization  should 
have  Liberty  as  a  queen,  and  that  the  serv- 
ant of  Ignorance  should  be  Light." 

The  truth  and  inspiration  voiced  in  these 
sentiments  will  be  the  key-note  of  the  new 
crusade.  I  believe  that  the  ideal  of  a  noble 
and  happy  life  for  man,  woman,  or  child, 
which  to-day  so  persistently  haunts  the 
brain  of  millions  of  earth's  children,  will 
be  realized.  Not  to-morrow  or  next  year, 
but  in  the  future;  yes,  the  near  future. 
We  must  not  grow  discouraged  if  the  tide 
seems  to  ebb  sometimes ;  it  will  return  with 
renewed  power.  It  takes  some  time,  after 
intellectual  assent  has  been  gained,  for  new 
truths  to  enter  the  bone,  blood,  and  fiber  of 
actual  life.  Especially  is  this  true  of  those 
teachings  which  run  counter  to  the  precon- 
ceived ideas  and  inherited  prejudice  of  gen- 
erations. We  must  expect  disappointments. 
The  pessimism  of  the  discouraged  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  optimism  of  the  dilettante 
on  the  other  will  continue  to  obstruct  all 
radical    reformative    work.      But    neither 


WHAT  OF  THE  3I0RE0\V?  235 

Mdll  the  cry  that  "it  is  useless  to  further 
battle,"  or  the  assertion  that  "all  is  well," 
check  the  onward  flow  of  reformative 
thought  now  in  motion.  /  believe  the  dawn 
to  he  breaking.  Never  have  ideas  gained 
such  rooting  in  the  heart  of  the  learned 
and  unlearned,  great  and  small,  as  have 
these  dreams  of  a  better  day,  without  blos- 
soming into  realities.  It  may  be  that  the 
light  will  not  come  until  blood  flows, 
because  intrenched  wealth  is  arrogant,  and 
may  refuse  concessions  until  too  late;  yet 
if  we  do  our  duty  in  efforts  to  arouse  those 
in  easy  circumstances,  to  a  sense  of  what 
is  right  and  just,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
educate,  purify,  and  uplift,  while  we  aid 
and  encourage  those  now  sinking  in  gloom 
and  darkness,  the  conflict  may  be  averted. 
This  thought  is  thus  admirably  put  by 
the  great  English  poet,  artist,  and  social 
reformer,  William  Morris:  — 


"  It  is  we  must  answer  and  hasten, 
And  open  wide  the  door 
For  the  rich  man's  hurrying  terror, 
And  the  slow-foot  hope  of  the  poor. 


236  CIVILIZATION'S  INFEENO. 

"  Yea,  the  voiceless  wrath  of  the  wretched, 
And  their  unlearned  discontent, 
We  must  give  it  voice  and  wisdom 
Till  the  waiting-tide  be  spent." 

Only  justice  can  prevent  a  bloody  cata- 
clysm—  that  is  a  thought  which  must  be 
emphasized  at  all  times. 

Be  the  early  result  as  it  may,  ultimately 
the  day  will  break — the  day  of  justice, 
and  brotherhood  of  love  and  joy  for  man, 
woman,  and  child.  I  have  a  profound 
faith  in  the  truth  expressed  by  Mr.  Morris 
in  these  prophetic  lines  which  appear  in  his 
last  volume  of  poems :  — 

"  Come  hither,  lads,  and  hearken 
For  a  tale  there  is  to  tell, 
Of  the  wonderful  days  a  coming,  when  all 
Shall  be  better  than  well. 
And  the  tale  shall  be  told  of  a  country, 
A  land  in  the  midst  of  a  sea, 
And  folk  shall  call  it  England 
In  the  day  that's  going  to  be. 

"  There  more  than  one  in  a  thousand 
Of  the  days  that  are  yet  to  come 
Shall  have  some  hope  of  the  morrow, 
Some  joy  of  the  ancient  home. 


WHAT  OF  THE  MORROW?  237 

For  then,  laugh  not,  but  listen 
To  this  strange  tale  of  mine : 
All  folk  that  are  in  England 
Shall  be  better  lodged  than  swine. 

"  Then  a  man  shall  work  and  bethink  him, 
And  rejoice  in  the  deeds  of  his  hand, 
Nor  yet  come  home  in  the  even 
Too  faint  and  weary  to  stand. 
Men  in  that  time  a  coming 
Shall  work  and  have  no  fear 
For  to-morrow's  lack  of  earning 
And  the  hunger-wulf  anear. 

<'  I  tell  you  this  for  a  wonder, 
That  no  man  then  shall  be  glad 
Of  his  fellow's  fall  and  mishap 
To  snatch  at  the  work  he  had. 
For  that  which  the  worker  winneth 
Shall  then  be  his  indeed, 
ISTor  shall  half  be  reaped  for  nothing 
By  him  that  sowed  no  seed. 

"  0  strange,  neAV,  wonderful  justice  ! 
But  for  whom  shall  we  gather  the  gain  ? 
For  ourselves  and  each  of  our  fellows, 
And  no  hand  shall  labor  in  vain. 
Then  all  Mine  and  all  Thine  shall  be  Ours, 
And  no  more  shall  any  JTian  crave 
For  riches  that  serve  for  nothing 
But  to  fetter  a  friend  for  a  slave." 


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lEhe  Hit  of  the  Ijear." 


Price,  paper,  ^o  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.25. 


Helen  H. 
Ciardener 


Chicago  Times 


The  Literary  H  it 
of  the  Season 


Rockford(Ill.) 
Republican 


AN    UNOFFICIAL    PATRIOT. 

Have  you  read  Helen  H.  Gardener's  new  war  story,  "An 
Unofficial  Patriot"?  No?  Then  read  what  competent 
critics  say  of  this  remarkable  historical  story  of  the  Civil 
War. 

"  Helen  H.  Gardener  has  made  for  herself  within  a  very  few 
years  an  enviable  fame  for  the  strength  and  sincerity  of  her 
writing  on  some  of  the  must  important  phases  of  modern  social 
questions.  Her  most  recent  novel,  now  published  under  the  title 
of '  An  Unutticial  Patriot,'  is  no  less  deserving  of  praise.  As  an 
artistic  piece  of  character  study  this  book  is  possessed  of  supe- 
rior qualities.  There  is  nothing  in  it  to  offend  the  traditions  of 
an  honest  man,  north  or  south.  It  is  wriiten  with  an  evident 
knowledge  of  the  circumstances  and  surroundings  such  as  might 
have  made  the  story  a  very  fact,  and,  more  than  all,  it  is  written 
with  an  assured  sympathy  for  humanity  and  a  recognition  of 
right  and  wrong  wherever  found.  As  to  the  literary  merit  of 
the  book  and  its  strength  as  a  character  study,  as  has  been  said 
heretofure,  it  is  a  superior  work.  The  study  of  Griflith  Daven- 
port, the  clergyman,  and  of  his  true  friend,  '  Lengthy  '  Patterson, 
is  one  to  win  favor  from  every  reader.  There  are  dramatic 
scenes  in  their  association  that  thiill  and  touch  the  heart. 
Davenport's  two  visits  to  President  Lincoln  are  other  scenes 
worthy  of  note  for  the  same  quality,  and  they  sho.v  an  apprecia- 
tion of  the  feeling  and  motive  of  the  president  more  than  histori- 
cal in  its  sympathy.  Mrs.  Gardener  may  well  be  proud  of  her 
success  in  tlie  field  of  fiction." 

"  Helen  Gardener's  new  novel,  '  An  Unofficial  Patriot,'  which 
is  just  out,  will  probably  be  the  most  popular  and  salable  novel 
since  '  Robert  Elsmere.'  It  is  by  far  the  most  finished  and 
ambitious  book  yet  produced  by  the  gifted  author  and  well  de- 
serves a  permanent  place  in  literature. 
.  "The  plot  of  the  story  itself  guarantees  the  present  sale.  It 
is  '  something  new  under  the  sun  '  and  strikes  new  sensations, 
new  situations,  new  conditions.  To  be  sure  it  is  a  war  story,  and 
war  stories  are  old  and  hackneyed.  But  there  has  been  no  such 
war  story  as  this  written.  It  gives  a  situation  new  in  fiction  and 
tells  the  story  of  the  war  from  a  standpoint  which  gives  the  book 
priceless  value  as  a  sociological  study  and  as  supplemental 
history. 

"  The  plot  is  very  strong  and  is  all  the  more  so  when  the 
reader  learns  that  it  is  true.  The  story  is  an  absolutely  true  one 
and  is  almost  entirely  a  piece  of  history  written  in  form  of  fic- 
tion, with  names  and  minor  incidents  altered." 

For  sale  by  all  newsdealers,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

Arena  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


From  the  press  of  the  Arena  Pnblisliing  Company. 

CuJO  ]^/ouels  of  Absorbing  Interest. 


Eibert 
Hubbard 


Syracuse  Herald 


Boston  Times 


The  New  York 
Voice 


Detroit 

News-Tribune 


r\rs. 
S.  M.  H. 
Gardner 


Price,  paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.25. 

FORBES   OF    HARVARD. 

In  "Forbes  of  Harvard"  Mr.  Elbert  Hubbard  has  pro- 
duced a  work  which  has  won  the  unqualified  praise  of  all 
lovers  of  clean,  wholesome  and  elevated  fiction.  Below 
we  give  some  critical  opinions  of  this  most  delightful 
work. 

" '  Forbes  of  Harvard.'  A  delicate  and  artistic  piece  of  work, 
full  of  high-tuned  sentiment,  good-natured  and  finely  shaded 
character  drawing." 

"  The  book  has  a  flavor  of  Concord,  and  the  influence  of 
Emerson,  the  Alcotts  and  Thoreau  is  felt  throughout  it.  It  is 
philosophical,  mnral,  religious  and  social  in  its  bearings,  but  no 
one  of  these  matters  is  given  undue  precedence." 

"  The  author  of  '  Forbes  of  Harvard  '  has  succeeded  in  doing 
what  very  few  writers  have  done.  He  has  told  a  bright,  clever 
story  by  means  of  a  series  of  letters.  Instead  of  describing  his 
characters  he  has  let  them  reveal  themselves  in  their  epistles." 

"  '  Forbes  of  Harvard  '  is  a  series  of  letters  written  by  difi'er- 
ent  persons,  one  of  whom  is  at  Harvard,  and  tells  in  an  inter- 
estingly vivid  way  a  neat  and  good  story,  sure  to  be  read  with 
pleasure." 

Price,  paper,  $0  cents;  cloth,  $1.25. 
THE  FORTUNES  OF  flARQARET  WELD. 

A  novel  dealing  with  the  relation  of  the  sexes  in  a  bold 
but  delicate  manner. 

This  book  tells  the  story  of  a  good  woman  who  made  a 
grave  mistake.  It  touches  our  hearts  like  an  old  sorrow, 
and  we  go  with  Margaret  on  her  tortuous  earth  journey ; 
we  partake  of  her  ambitions  and  her  joys ;  we  know  the 
bitterness  of  her  portion,  and  we,  too,  catch  glimpses  and 
feel  somewhat  at  the  last  of  her  serene  peace.  A  lofty, 
purpose  runs  throughout  the  pages.  A  just  tribute  is  in- 
directly paid  to  the  Quakers,  the  only  sect  who  having 
power  never  persecuted  ;  the  people  who  made  the  only 
treaty  that  was  never  sworn  to  and  yet  never  broken.  The 
world  will  be  better  for  this  book. 

For  sale  by  all  newsdealers,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

Arena  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


From  the  press  of  t  lie  Are)ia  Publishing  Coiiipaiiy. 


iThe  Latest  Social  Uision. 


Byron  A. 
Brooks 


Richmond,  Va. 
Star 

Chicago  Times 

Review  of 
Reviews 


Lyman    Abbott' 
Paper,  The 
Outlook 


Nashville,  Tenn. 
Banner 


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EARTH    REVISITED. 

The  New  Utopia,  "  Earth  Revisited,"  is  the  latest  social 
vision,  and  in  many  respects  the  most  charming  work 
of  this  character  which  has  ever  appeared.  In  it  we  sec 
the  people,  the  state  and  the  church  under  true  civilization, 
and  the  new  psychology  is  introduced  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  interest  students  of  psychical  research. 

Here  are  a  few  press  opinions  :  — 

"  As  a  story,  it  is  very  interesting." 

"  Worthy  of  consideration  for  its  study  of  the  social  and  other 
questions  involved." 

"The  story  is  written  in  an  autobiographical  form  and  pic- 
tures the  social,  industrial,  religious  and  educational  America  of 
1992.  As  a  work  of  fiction  the  volume  embodies  in  a  fanciful 
way  a  view  expressed  in  the  closing  words:  'Tu  live  is  to  love 
and  to  labor.     There  is  no  death.'     The  style  is  clear  and  direct." 

"  Mr.  Brooks  is  an  earnest  man.  He  has  written  a  religio- 
philosophical  novel  of  life  in  the  coming  century.  The  hero  of 
this  story  has  lived  the  life  of  the  average  man  and  at  length, 
when  he  tinds  himself  dying,  he  wishes  that  he  might  have  a 
chance  to  live  his  life  over.  I'he  wish  is  granted  and  he  is  born 
again  on  the  earth  a  century  later.  Social  and  scientific  and 
religious  eve  lution  have  in  a  hundred  years  contrived  to  make  an 
almost  irrecognizable  world  of  it.  Human  nature  is  changed  ; 
altruism  is  fully  realized;  worship  has  become  service  of  man; 
the  struggle  for  wealth  and  social  rank  has  ended.  Mr.  Brooks' 
book  is  worth  reading  by  all  S'ncere  people,  and  in  particular 
by  those  interested  in  Christian  socialism  and  .applied  Christian- 
ity." 

"  If  you  should  happen  to  pick  up  Byron  A.  Brooks'  '  Earth 
Revisited  '  and  read  the  first  chapter,  the  chances  are  that  you 
would  follow  the  story  on  to  the  end,  even  if  you  had  other 
things  on  hand  spoiling  for  your  attention.  Summed  up, 
'Earth  Revisited'  is  a  wild  though  delightful  stiry,  short 
enough  to  be  filled  from  end  to  end  with  throbbing  interest  and 
long  enough  to  fully  round  oft"  the  things  that  are  introduced." 


For  sale  by  oil  newsdealers,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

^Irena  PiiblisJiing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


From  the  press  of  tJie  Arena  Publishing  Company 

Jiction  :  Social,  Economic  an6  Heformatiue. 


Hamlin 
Garland 


The  great  Novel 
ot  the  present 
popuhir 
Industrial  and 
Political  uprising 


Price,  paper,  50  cenls  ;  cloth,  $1 .25. 

A  SPOIL  OF   OFFICE. 

This  is  a  stirring  novel  of  western  life,  and  deals  with 
the  great  movement  known  as  the  P^armers'  Alliance. 

Entitled  to  rank  among  the  greatest  of  American  novels.  — 
Minneapolis  Spectatoi-. 

Radically  unconventional,  and  douVitless  the  truest  picture  of 
Western  life  that  has  appeared  in  American  fiction.  —  Commer- 
cial Advertiser,  Detroit,  Mich. 

A  work  which  possesses  a  fascinating  interest  for  the  super- 
ficial reader,  and  many  excellent  suggestions  for  the  thoughtful 
student  of  the  economic  questions  of  the  day  —  a  rare  combi- 
nation.—  Books  and  Notions,  Toronto,  Can. 


Emil  Blum 

and 

Sigmund 
Alexander 


One  of  the  most 
scathing 
Arraignments  of 
conventional 
Hypocrisy  ever 
Published 


Price,  paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1 .00. 

WHO   LIES?   An  Interrogation. 

This  is  unquestionably  the  most  vivid  and  realistic  ex- 
pose of  the  sham  hypocrisy  and  lies  of  conventional 
society  which  has  appeared  since  the  publication  of  IVIax 
Nordeau's  "  Conventional  Lies  of  Civilization,"  which  in- 


deed sugjrested  the  work. 


Who  Lies?"  is   written  in 


story  form,  and  is  exceedingly  interesting. 

This  is  one  of  the  boldest,  most  radical  and  realistic  works  of 
the  decade.  It  is  unconventional  as  it  is  unicjue,  and  will  un- 
questionably call  forth  criticisms  in  quarters  where  its  shafts 
enter. —  Illinois  State  Sentinel. 

One  does  not  know  what  a  rare  thing  the  truth  is  until  one  is 
pledged  for  a  whole  week  to  tell  "the  truth,  the  whole  truth, 
and  nothing  but  the  truth."  These  gentlemen  in  their  various 
callings  who  wager  to  tell  the  truth  for  a  week  lose  friends  and 
patronage  from  the  word  "  go." 

Each  mentally  curses  the  day  he  took  that  fool  pledge  to  tell 
the  truth,  anfl  never  before  knew  that  he  was  a  liar.  The  cor- 
ruption of  modern  society  is  shown  up  in  its  most  revolting  yet 
most  realistic  light.  All  this  is  admirably  told  in  "Who 
Lies,"  a  work  published  lately  by  the  Arena  Company,  of  Bos- 
ton. We  know  the  work  to  be  one  full  of  plain,  unvarnished 
truth,  a  single  "  lecture"  on  realism  (delivered  by  the  professor 
when  under  obligation  to  speak  the  truth)  containing  the 
essence  of  the  modern  social  question  and  its  solution.  —  J\ick- 
niond  Daily  Telegram,  Ind. 

/■'or  sale  by  the  trade,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

The  Arena  Publishing  Company. 


Front  the  press  of  the  Arena  Pitblishiiii^  Company . 

Fiction  :  Social,  "Economic  an6  Reformatiue. 


Price,  paper,  ^o  cents;  cloth,  $1.25. 
E.  Stillman  j  JUST    PLAIN    FOLKS. 

Doubleday    j       A  novel  for  the  industrial  millions,  illustrating  two  stu- 
pendous facts :  — 

1.  The  bounty  and  goodness  of  nature. 

2.  The  misery  resulting  from  unjust  social  conditions 
which  enable  the  acquirer  of  wealth  to  degenerate  in 
luxury  and  idleness,  and  the  wealth  producer  to  slave  him- 
self to  death,  haunted  by  an  ever-present  fear  of  starva- 
tion when  not  actually  driven  to  vice  or  begging.     It  is  an 

I  exceedingly  interesting  book,  simply  and  aflfectingly  told, 
while  there  is  a  vast  deal  of  the  philosophy  of  commun- 
ism in  the  moralizing  of  Old  Bat.  All  persons  interested  in 
wholesome  fiction,  and  who  also  desire  to  understand  the 
conditions  of  honest  industry  and  society-made  vice, 
should  read  this  admirable  story. 


A  story  of  the 
Struggles  of 
Honest  Industry 
under  Present 
Day   Conditions. 


Charles  S. 
Daniel 


AI 


Price,  paper,  50  coits  ;  cloth,  $1.25. 
A  Social  Vision. 


A  Story  of  the 
Transfonnation 
of  the  Slums 


One  of  the  most  ingenious,  unique  and  thought-provoking 
stories  of  the  present  generation.  It  is  a  social  vision,  and  in 
many  respects  the  most  noteworthy  of  the  many  remarkable 
dreams  called  forth  by  the  general  unrest  and  intellectual  activ- 
ity of  tlie  present  generation.  But  unlike  most  social  dreams 
appearing  since  the  famous  "  Utopia  "  of  Sir  Thomas  More, 
this  book  has  distinctive  qualities  which  will  commend  it  to 
many  readers  who  take,  as  yet,  little  interest  in  the  vital  social 
problems  of  the  hour.  A  quiet  humor  pervades  the  whole  vol- 
ume which  is  most  delightful. 

The  brotherhood  of  man  an<l  various  sociological  and  philan- 
thropic ideas,  such  as  the  establishment  of  a  college  settlement 
and  the  social  regeneration  of  Old  Philadelphia,  are  a  few  of 
the  topics  discussed  in  "  Ai,"  a  novel  by  Charles'  Daniel,  who 
calls  it  "A  Social  Vision."  It  is  alternately  grave  and  gay;  and 
the  intellectual  freshness  reminds  one  constantly  of  Edward 
Everett  Hale's  stories,  with  which  "  Ai "  has  much  in  common. 
This  is  a  clever  book,  and,  what  is  much  more  important,  one 
whose  intluence  is  for  good.  —  Public  Led<rer. 


I'yoin  the  press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company. 

-iction :  Social,  Economic  an6  Beformatiue. 

Price,  paper,  ^o  cents;    cloth,  $1.25. 


Byron 
A.  Brooks 


The 
New  Utopia 


Hamlin 
Garland 


A  powerfully 
Dramatic  Novel, 
dealing  with  the 
Struggles  of  the 
Poor  in  City  and 
Country 


EARTH  REVISITED. 

A  story  for  earnest  men  and  women  of  the  new  time. 
Mr.  Flower,  in  "  Civilization's  Inferno,"  portrays  some 
hideous  phases  of  modern  civilization.  Mr.  Brooks,  in 
"  Earth  Revisited,"  pictures  our  earth  blossoming  in 
peace,  joy  and  happiness,  under  cooperation.  This  story, 
which  is  charming  as  a  pure,  clean  love  story,  is  made  the 
vehicle  for  shadowing  forth  an  ideal,  civilization  through 
the  working  of  the  law  of  all  for  all.  Few  social  studies 
are  so  helpful  in  psychical  suggestions  as  "  Earth  Revis- 
ited," and  probably  this  work  more  than  any  other  Uto- 
pian romance  sustains  the  interest  of  the  reader  from  first 
to  last. 


Price,  paper,  ^o  cents;  cloth,  $1.25. 

JASON    EDWARDS. 

This  work  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  portrayals  of  the 
struggles  of  the  mechanic  in  the  city  and  the  farmer  in  the 
West  ever  published.  It  is  highly  dramatic  while  per- 
fectly realistic,  and  though  it  ends  in  a  burst  of  sunshine, 
its  noble  lessons  will  linger  in  the  heart. 

Mamlin  Garland's  splendid  qualities  —  his  sympathy  with 
humanity,  his  perception  of  the  subtlest  meaning  of  nature,  his 
power  to  bring  his  people  before  you  as  if  you  had  grown  up 
in  their  tlooryards  —  these  are  i.is  own. 

Mary  E.  Wilkins  has  given  us  the  pathos  of  humblest  New 
England;  Charles  Egbert  Craddock  has  made  known  to  us  the 
secrets  of  the  Tennessee  Mountains;  Rudyard  Kipling  has 
carried  us  to  India;  and  now,  at  last,  here  is  the  story-teller  of 
farm  life  in  those  Western  prairies  among  which  Hamlin  Gar- 
land grew  up,  to  which  he  goes  back,  now  and  again,  with  the 
child's  heart,  the  man's  insight.  —  Louise  Chandler  Moulion,  in 
Boston  Herald. 

For  sale  by  all  newsdealers ,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

Arena  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


FroDi  t/ie  press  of  the  Arena  Piiblislii)ii^  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


Samuel 
Leavitt 


A  handbook  for 

Money 

Reformers 


Serious  Tilorhs  for  Stubents  of  Social,  Economic  an6 
Political  Problems. 

Price,  paper.  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.25 

OUR   MONEY    WARS. 

The  most  complete  and  comprehensive  history  of 
American  finance  ever  published.  The  book  is  the  result 
of  a  lifetime  of  study  and  work,  and  will  be  indispensable 
to  all  who  wish  to  keep  posted  on  the  money  question. 
Mr.  Leavitt  is  a  man  of  wide  experience,  and  his  work 
shows  not  only  remarkable  ability  but  great  insight  and 
rare  courage.  Mr.  Leavitt  has  long  been  before  the  pub- 
lic as  a  contributor  to  such  publications  as  the  North 
American  Review,  the  Forum,  and  the  New  York  Tribune, 
World d^nd  Graphic.  In  1878  he  was  managing  editor  of 
Peter  Cooper's  New  York  Advocate.  In  1883  he  was 
made  superintendent.  In  1887  he  made  sixty  speeches  for 
Henry  George  in  the  memorable  campaign  in  New  York 
when  the  great  reformer  polled  seventy  thousand  votes. 
This  book  will  be  a  textbook  for  reformers,  and  is  invalu- 
able to  all  who  wish  to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  finan- 
cial history  of  our  country.  The  chapters  deal  with  the 
money  question  during  different  periods  as  follows:  1600 
to  1700.  1700  to  1776.  1776101786.  1786  to  1796.  1796 
to  1806.  1806  to  1816.  1816  to  1826.  1826  to  1836. 
1836  to  1846.  1846  to  1856.  1856  to  i86r.  1861  to 
1866  (the  war  period).  1866  to-iS73.  1873  to  1880 
(seven  years  of  famine  in  a  land  of  plenty).  1880  to  1885 
(the  triumph  of  plutocracy).  1885  to  1893  (the  beginning 
of  the  end). 

Price,  paper,  ^o  cents ;  cloth,  $1.25. 

RAILROADS  IN   EUROPE  AND  AMERICA. 

An  indispensable  work  for  all  persons  interested  in  the 
railroad  problem.  It  is  a  powerful  and  convincing  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  government  control. 

This  is  a  rather  unusual  subject  to  be  treated  of  by  a  lady,  but 
the  author  has  done  her  work  with  thoroughness  and  ability. 
She  considers  one  of  the  most  serious  questions  of  the  times  to 
be  whether  the  railways  shall  own  the  people  or  the  people  own 
the  railways.  In  discussing  this  question  she  lirst  gives  the  rail- 
way statistics  from  official  sources  of  the  United  States,  Ger- 
many, Austro-Hungary,  India,  Victoria,  England,  France,  and  a 
number  of  other  countries,  with  an  explanation  of  the  Zone 
System  in  operation  in  Austria  and  Hungary. 

For  sale  by  all  newsdealers,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

Arena  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


riarion 
Todd 


A  strong  work 
in  favor  of 
Governmental 
Ownership  of 
Railroads 


From  the  press  of  the  Arena  Picblisluiig  Company . 


Serious  Ijblorhs  for  Stubents  of  Social,  Economic  an6 
Political  Problems. 

Price,  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.25. 


Prof. 

Frank 

Parsons 


A  Noble  Work 
which  will 
appeal  to  all 
High  Thinking 
^len  and  Women 


OUR  COUNTRY'S  NEED  :  or  The  Development 
of  Scientific  Industrialism. 

A  work  on  industrial  philosophy,  of  which  Professor 
Parsons,  to  use  his  own  words,  says  :  — 

"  My  object  in  the  book  is  to  construct  a  new  political 
science  on  the  idea  that  manhood  and  noble  living  are  the 
supreme  objects  of  all  human  endeavor,  and,  therefore,  the 
true  objects  of  all  laws  and  institutions,  industrial  institu- 
tions among  the  rest." 

The  late  Phillips  Brooks  read  the  manuscrijjt  of  this 
remarkable  work,  and  vvrote  to  the  author,  "  '  Our  Coun- 
try's Need'  is  destined  to  be  an  epoch-making  book."  It 
is  a  volume  for  the  present  hour,  and  those  interested  in 
live  social  problems  will  find  it  a  wonderful  work,  filled 
with  striking  thoughts  presented  in  a  very  engaging  and 
convincing:  manner. 


Poems  of  Reform. 


Published  only  in  cloth.     Price  $1 .00. 


Frances      j   FOR   TO-DAY. 
Margaret 
Milne 


A  Notable 
Volume  of 
Poems  of  the 
New  Time 


This  book  is  elegantly  printed  in  large  and  beautiful 
type,  on  first-class  paper,  and  its  cover  is  as  chaste  as  it  is 
substantial. 

Another  clarion  voice  in  the  chorus  of  a  new  day.  .  .  .  Many 
of  the  poems  thrill  with  an  enthusiasm  which  marks  a  soul  aflame 
with  redemptive  thought.  —  The  Arena. 

The  noble  aim  of  all  Mrs.  Milne's  writings,  combined  wiih 
their  great  literary  merit,  should  commend  them  to  all.  What 
Whitlier  was  to  the  anti-slavery  movement,  Mrs.  Milne  is  to  this 
greater  movement  of  to-day,  which  is  based  on  "equal  rights  for 
all,  special  privilege  to  none" — which  means  freedom  not  alone 
for  the  black  man,  nor  the  white  man,  but  for  all  mankind. — 
The  Star,  San  Francisco. 

For  sale  by  all  newsdealers,  or  sent  postpaid  by 

Arena  Publishing  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


University  of  California 

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